


The Blood Debt

by fluffy_miracle



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anger, Angry Legolas, Angry Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Archer Legolas, Archery, Art, Artist Legolas, Attempted Murder, BAMF Elrond, BAMF Legolas Greenleaf, Banter, Betrayal, Between Rage and Serenity, Bitterness, Blood and Injury, Body Image, Broken Elrond, Canon-Typical Violence, Celebrations, Cycles of Hurt, Dancing, Dark, Dark Legolas, Darkness, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Death, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, Drunkenness, Dungeon, Dysfunctional Family, Elf-Lord Elrond, Elves, Elvish, Elvish Medicine, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotions, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Forest Sex, Forests, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Giant Spiders, Grief/Mourning, Healer Elrond, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Jealousy, Kissing, Life Debt, Loss, Love, M/M, Making Out, Medieval Medicine, Middle Earth, Minor Character Death, Mirkwood, Mirkwood Palace, Murder, Neglect, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Touching, Orc Attack, Orcs, Outpost, Painting, Palace, Parent Elrond, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Prince Legolas, Protective Elrond, Psychic Abilities, Psychological Torture, Rage, Recovery, Repaying Debt, Rescue, Rivendell | Imladris, Rough Sex, Royalty, Sassy, Secrets, Servant Elrond, Servants, Sex, Slight savior complex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Snark, Snarky Elves, Spiders, Stabbing, Tenderness, Touch-Starved, Touching, Trauma, Wakes & Funerals, Whipping, Wood Elves, Wounded, Wounds, Wrongful Imprisonment, cheeky Legolas, injuries, king thranduil - Freeform, light - Freeform, touch repulsed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-23 03:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffy_miracle/pseuds/fluffy_miracle
Summary: The crown prince of Mirkwood is dead and it is Elrond's eldest child who accidentally killed him, mistaking him for an orc. King Thranduil demands a blood debt, a debt that must be paid if peace between the two lands is to remain intact. Elrond knows that if Elladan goes, for it was Elladan's arrow that took Iliumal's life, Elladan will not return.Elrond goes to Mirkwood to take his son's place, to serve the royal family until the blood debt is paid by twenty years of servitude. He knows Thranduil is trying to shame him since he doesn't dare harm the other ruler. But Elrond also knows there might be another reason he comes to Mirkwood, a reason that is not made clear until he meets the youngest son of Thranduil, Legolas.Legolas is unlike any elf Elrond had ever met. He is dark, wrathful, and clearly wounded under all his postering. He takes personal interest in Elrond, intent on breaking the Elf-Lord who can tell that this was how someone once broke Legolas. An unlikely friendship blossoms between them and then something more, something that feels like love. Can something beautiful come from what turns out to be a series of terrible tragedies?
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel/Legolas Greenleaf, Legolas/ Others
Comments: 26
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

It had been an accident.

A terrible, terrible accident.

Elrond’s sons burst into the Hidden Valley, carrying a blood-stained prince in between them. It was their dear friend from Mirkwood, Iliumal, the crown prince. Elrond noted the elvish arrow jutting out of Iliumal’s chest. He could tell by the looks on the faces of the three that they already knew it was a mortal wound.

“Ada!” Elrohir pleaded. “Please!” Elrond just shook his head, scooping up Iliumal and bringing him to a nearby chaise. 

“I will give you some herbs for the pain.” He pushed the sweaty, dirty blond hair out Iliumal’s face that was contorting with pain. “What happened?”

“It was an accident.” Elladan whispered. “He came a different way. There had already been so many orcs.” He hung his head, guilt clear on his face. 

“Send for Thranduil.” Elrond ordered Erestor who ran faster than they knew was possible. Iliumal was fading when his father came out of their guest house to hold his son’s hand as he passed. Anger and grief were clear in those vivid eyes as Iliumal took his last breath. 

“Elrond.” Thranduil finally looked at him. “What happened to my son? Don’t think I didn’t notice it was your son’s arrow that took him from me.”

“I am so sorry.” Elrond was. He shouldered his son’s regret at his own. “The hunt was interrupted by orcs. Iliumal came after the orcs and Elladan made a terrible mistake. He assumed and did not wait to see.” Elrond had looked inside the minds of his sons, had seen the tragedy from both their eyes. He had seen it from Iliumal’s eyes too, had felt the searing pain as his son’s aim struck true.

“It’s unforgivable.” Elrond understood, had sensed the words coming next. “I demand a blood debt.” He cocked his head before turning back to his son’s corpse. “A son for a son perhaps.” Elrond knew what would happen if he sent Elladan to Mirkwood-- it would not pay a debt but start a war when he buried the elder of his twins. And, although he couldn’t quite make it out yet, there was another reason he was headed to the Great Wood.

“Then I will pay it.” He decided, meeting Thranduil’s gaze head on. “I should have sent more sentries with them or sent scouts ahead. Hold me responsible.” Thranduil’s eyes were pure ice as he met the Half-Elven’s eyes.

“Fine. You will serve my family in any capacity they so desire for twenty years.” Elrond nodded, accepting the terms. Twenty years was but a blink of an eye for an elf. Thranduil did not care for time as a punishment, but rather the shame of forcing another ruler to be a servant.

“I will inform Galadriel and put my house in order.”

“We leave tomorrow.” Thranduil’s voice was as cold as the North. “Don’t bother bringing any of your fancy things or your books. You will be far too busy.” Elrond left him to his grief and left to inform his sons of their new duties. They would look out for Imladris in his absence.

“Take care of this.” Elrond slipped his ring off and handed it over to them. “It will listen to you while I’m gone. Do not let anyone know you have it. Let them assume it is with me in Mirkwood.”

“It’s a Ring of Power?!” Elrohir gaped. Elladan’s eyes were full of tears as he hugged his father fiercely.

“It should be me.”

“I will not let them kill you.” Elrond hugged him back just as fiercely. “For that is what they would have done if I had let them take you. They would have tortured you and just before you could return, they would have ended your life.” He cradled his sons close as Elrohir wrapped his arms around them both. “Watch over our valley, keep her safe until I can return home.”

“They won’t kill you?”

“They wouldn’t dare.” Elrond managed a smile at that. “And that is why I am going. I can endure the years. If Thranduil thinks he can shame the Elf-Lord out of me, he has another thing coming.”

“I hate him.” Elrohir sniffled uncharacteristically. “I hate that he’s taking you away.” 

“He just lost his firstborn.” Elrond reminded his younger son. “He is showing remarkable restraint since he didn’t murder the two of you on the spot. Imagine if him and I had places exchanged.” He murmured. The twins shared a look. Elrond would tear through all the forces of evil for his children-- this they knew well. 

“Ada.” They both kissed a cheek. “Come back to us well.” They would do the same for their father. If Mirkwood returned their father in a lesser condition than they took them away, the twins would not forget. 

“I will return.” Elrond promised his sons. “Have Arwen stay in Lorien until I can return.”

“We will.” Elohrir nodded. 

“We will take care of Imladris for you.” Elladan promised. “Thank you, Ada.” Elrond looked him over carefully, his oldest child. He would die for his children. He saw the guilt and gratitude warring on his son’s face and he touched his cheek gently. 

“What is done is done.” He said softly. “We tried to save him.” Elladan hung his head, shaking it slightly. “I am going because I need to protect you. More death will not heal their wound, even if they don’t even realize that yet.” Elladan threw his arms around Elrond again, something he hadn’t done since he was an elfling. Elrond just held him. Grief was a powerful force. Elladan had lost a friend, a dear friend, and it had been by his own hand. Even though it had been an accident, an honest mistake, Elladan was wracked with guilt. Elrond took what he could, helped to bear some of the load as his eldest began to weep against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You were defending your home, your family, and your friend. You did not know it would be him.”

“It hurts, Ada.”

“I know.” Elrond rubbed his son’s back. “I know.” What a sight they were, standing on the first dais of Imladris, covered in the blood of a friend. “Let’s go cleaned up.” Elrond sighed. “Come, my sons. Let us clean up.” He signaled for Erestor to clean up the blood outside. The chaise Iliumal had died on was burned as Elrond scrubbed himself clean. He changed and then he began to pack. His heart was heavy at the notion of leaving his home, this valley he had carved from war and stone. His sons would see to its continued protection and he would protect his sons. He would always protect his sons.

The next morning, Elrond joined Thranduil and his company. He didn’t look away when Iliumal’s wrapped corpse was brought out. Elrond had said goodbye to his household and his sons before he joined the Mirkwood group. He had instructed Erestor and Elohrir to look out for Elladan in the coming days. Elrond would not subject his sons to another round of grief-stricken Thranduil. He felt for the king and his loss, he did, but he found it hard to forgive what he had seen in the vision, what they would have done to Elladan if Elrond had let them take him.

“The blood debt starts being paid as of now.” Thranduil announced, his voice carrying to the waterfalls. He took in Elrond’s traveling robes, much simpler than the robes he usually wore. “At least you look more the part now.” He sneered, as if that mask could hide how his son’s death had ripped him apart. He had lost his wife in battle all those years ago, had closed ranks to protect his family from more loss. And here, he had lost his son in a place that was meant to be refuge. “Let’s go.”

A couple weeks later, they were finally under the Great Wood. Thranduil explained the situation to the family, introducing Elrond to his new role. Elrond was kept busy as the king had promised. At first, he was put to work to help get them ready for the funeral, but then he ended up being more of a basic household servant than anything. He rarely saw Thranduil or his remaining sons, something he was grateful for. He wondered why he was here, what had drawn him here, other than the blood debt, other than protecting his sons.

He searched for the reason, but a few months later he had still found nothing or no one. So he kept busy, kept his head down, and he didn’t attract unnecessary attention to himself. Until one night, when he was serving the royal family, there was a new face at the table. The last of Thranduil’s remaining sons had come home at last.


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas Greenleaf, the youngest son of Thranduil, arched up an eyebrow when Elrond came in with the rest of their servers. Elrond had gained little intel from the others in his group about the prince, but he could sense how everyone became tense with Legolas here, from royalty to common folk. There was something about Legolas that was setting everyone off. And now Elrond was getting to witness it firsthand. 

Something was indeed off with Legolas. He was more predator than prince as he watched Elrond do his duties. Elrond ignored him. Legolas would make the first move, whatever that would be, they would discover as a group.

“I didn’t know we got some new… help.” His gaze raked over Elrond, not even bothering to hide his interest. “I would have come back sooner.”

“Legolas, behave.” Thranduil hissed at his youngest, who was no youngling anymore. No, Legolas was an elf in his prime. Thranduil shot a worried glance over at Elrond, the first time he had looked at the other ruler in weeks. Elrond watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye as he moved around the table, pouring wine. His talents were wasted here-- but Thranduil wouldn’t let use his skills as a healer. His words had hinted that this was supposed to be a punishment. Letting people suffer because the king was too stubborn was a punishment indeed. 

Elrond poured wine into Legolas’ goblet, not blinking at the clear challenge in those azure eyes. He moved on to the next person, but there was no avoiding Legolas when he wanted attention. There was devilry in those depths and so Elrond kept his expression calm even as Legolas knocked over his glass, spilling the wine all over the table. Elrond returned to the prince quickly, cleaning up the spilled liquid effectively and quietly.

“Oops.” Legolas glanced up unrepentantly. His eyes were wide with faux innocence. “I’m sure you’re used to mopping up messes by now, hmm? Mischief danced over his fine features. “I heard you cleaned up my brother’s blood rather quickly.” Elrond would not give Legolas the satisfaction of a reaction.

“I am so sorry for your loss.” He murmured, moving on to dispose of the wine-soaked rag. Legolas scoffed, about to say something else when Thranduil cut him off.

“Enough.” Thranduil slapped the table, causing everyone’s wine to ripple in their golden goblets. “Legolas, enough. Whatever business you want with the Half-elven,” a snub, a slur, but Elrond could not be bothered by what he was, “do it in private, not at the table.”

“Oh, we’re still not talking about Iliumal, got it.” Legolas sipped at the wine Elrond had just poured in his now righted goblet. Thranduil’s cheeks reddened and Elrond stepped over to the side, waiting with the rest of those on dinner duty. The family didn’t eat together all that often and Elrond was starting to understand why. “At least we don’t have to worry about him being king now.” Elrond frowned slightly, not understanding that comment. Iliumal was beloved by everyone who knew him. Why wouldn’t they want him to be the next king? Not that he had a chance now.

“You can finish your dinner in your rooms.” Thranduil managed.

“Only if I can take the Half-elven with me.” Legolas challenged his father, standing up with his plate and goblet in hand.

“Fine.” Thranduil sighed. “Elrond, please attend to my son. You are dismissed from the rest of your duties this evening.” Elrond did not like the sound of that. Thranduil certainly made it sound like Elrond would be occupied by Legolas for the rest of the evening. He had hoped that what he had seen in legolas’ gaze might have been curbed by the king, but there seemed to be no such protection. His doubts must have shown on his face because Thranduil continued. “It is your duty to serve my family however they need serving.” Legolas’s smile stretched into a grin as Elrond just bowed to the king who was mollified by his response. Thranduil liked seeing Elrond bow to him and liked being superior to the Half-elven. 

“Of course.” 

“Here.” Legolas handed him his food and drink. “Follow me, Half-elven.” Elrond bit his tongue from correcting the prince. To do so in front of Thranduil would bring further chastisement-- he did not enjoy listening to the king prattle on. Perhaps when they were alone he could educate Legolas on his name and that he preferred to be called by his name. He followed Legolas down the hallway hewn out of stone, the floor he had to scrub daily. He found the menial tasks draining on some days, comforting on others. Some days he felt the exact way that Thranduil wanted him to, but he would not dwell on that now. He had a feeling he would need all his wits about him with the prince leading him to his rooms.

“Alone at last.” Legolas crooned, holding the door for Elrond to carry his dinner inside. “Put it on the table.” He instructed. He let his robe drop to the floor before removing his boots, kicking them off at the door. Elrond half expected the prince to just leave his things there, but he meticulously put them away. He then peeled off his undershirt, standing there in just his leggings. “Have a seat.” Legolas waved his hand, sinking into the chair Elrond had placed his food and wine before.

“You planned this.” Elrond took the offered chair, making sure to sit across the table from the prince. He wanted to be outside of Legolas’ reach. Legolas smirked, eating his food with grace, as he leaned on his elbows. His muscles rippled as he moved and Elrond realized Legolas was the show. “What do you want?” His eyes strayed down to the faint scars across the prince's torso. Legolas moved and Elrond understood. He wasn't allowed a closer look at those.

“I wanted to be alone with you as soon as I saw you.” Legolas popped a grape into his mouth, crushing it between his teeth. “I’m curious as to why you are here.”

“I am paying the blood debt your father demanded.”

“He is dramatic.” Legolas nodded. “He should have thanked you for that arrow in my brother’s heart.”

“What is your quarrel with your brother?” Elrond inquired. Legolas cocked his head before letting out a low, bitter laugh.

“Does it matter, Half-elven? He’s dead.”

“It’s Elrond.”

“I know.” A fine eyebrow quirked up. “Do you want some wine?”

“No, thank you.”

“You might want it for what comes next.”

“I did not think I’m the kind of elf that frequents your bed, Prince Legolas.” Legolas grimaced at his title.

“Just Legolas, Elrond.” Ah, a compromise. Elrond was pleasantly surprised to find that Legolas was capable of such a thing. Despite his caution, he found himself intrigued. Legolas was-- something had happened to Legolas and the healer in Elrond wanted to help him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m something to be pitied. I’m glad my brother is dead, Elrond. I won’t lie to you about that.”

“Okay.” Elrond nodded. He didn’t ask why, something that seemed to disappoint Legolas. They were playing cat and mouse and Elrond was not foolish enough to believe he was anything but the mouse in this situation. 

“Will you attend me in bed?” Legolas asked, taking a bite of bread. “If I demanded it?”

“Are you going to?” The gleam in Legolas’ eyes implied he certainly would if he wanted to.

“Would you submit to such a request?” Legolas smirked. “My father clearly wants you to feel as lowly as he thinks you are.”

“I am aware of how your father thinks of me.”

“Do you want to know what I think of you?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” Elrond quipped. Legolas barked out a surprised laugh at that, reaching for his wine.

“You’re not what I expected.” Legolas pursed his lips. “I expected someone a bit more stuffy, even if you won’t give me a straight answer about that.” He nodded towards his bedroom. “I want to make you scream, Elrond. I want to see what you look like, what you sound like when you come undone.”

“Are you sure you’re up to such a task?” Elrond smirked back. “Princeling?” Legolas narrowed his eyes. Challenge accepted. 

“I would see you break.” He snarled. “Even if I’m grateful to your line for ending Iliumal’s.” Legolas studied him, pushing his plate to the side. “I’m finished. I think I’m ready for dessert.” Elrond met his gaze, unflinching. “You’re braver than the others I’ve had in here. I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.” Elrond murmured. 

“So, will you serve?” Legolas asked. Elrond could feel his face grow hot. To be propositioned like he was nothing more than a common--

“I haven’t slept with anyone since before my wife sailed into the west.” He replied. 

“That’s not my problem.” Legolas replied, standing up and walking over towards Elrond. “Why don’t we get you out of this ratty robe and see if we can’t work something out between us?”

“Why would I do that?” Elrond asked even though he was already unbuttoning the top of his loose cape. Legolas’s eyes traced the movements of his finger hungrily.

“Because I don’t have my father’s restraint. I don’t care if you’re an elf lord.”

“And I don’t care that you’re a spoiled prince.” Elrond retorted.

“I am not--” Elrond watched as Legolas recoiled, tucking his reaction back in. “Bedroom, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you all think so far?


	3. Chapter 3

Elrond hesitated. Legolas was in his bedroom, clearly moving things around and he still sat at the small dining table. Frozen. Thinking. Trying to see ahead. But for whatever reason, Sight was not granted to him for this particular situation.

“Are you coming?” An impatient, little huff from the warrior on the hunt who stood in the doorway. Elrond gave him a look that would wither most elves at the spot but Legolas just laughed, jutting his chin forward. “I hope you’re not running from a good fight, Half-elven.” He stepped forward. “I haven’t had someone as interesting as you in my bed before.” Elrond stood easily, letting his cloak fall to the floor. He started on his robe ties.

“I do not think you care how interesting someone is when you bed them.” Legolas bared his teeth. Elrond smiled back, even if it was as cold as a blizzard wind. He let his robe drop to the floor with his cloak, standing there only in his undergarments. Legolas’ eyes flickered over him with lazy interest, sizing him up. 

“You still have a warrior’s body.” That was all the prince said before he crossed the door to pull Elrond across the room into his bedroom. As if Elrond had passed some test. The door shut behind them and Elrond took in his new surroundings. There was a fireplace hewn from stone that already had a warm, crackling fire in it. Elrond was glad for that— the palace here was cold at night, especially in the servant quarters. He glanced back at Legolas who was still looking at him, taking him all in. Elrond had a feeling that heat wouldn’t be a problem tonight as his gaze fell on the bed. There were some scattered paintings on the wall but then Legolas nudged him forwards. “I have one rule, Elrond.”

“I’m not going to scream, princeling. You’ll have to earn that.” A low snort as he was pushed on to the bed. Elrond sat there, leaning back on his hands as Legolas stood before him, looking as if he was about to devour Elrond right there. As if something had been clawed from the depths of him and Elrond was the only thing that could fill it for the night. 

Legolas laughed at his challenge, pushing him back until he was lying down. Elrond did not like how vulnerable that felt, but he embraced the vulnerability. They couldn’t hurt him past what he allowed. For whatever reason, Legolas needed this, and Elrond would give him it.

“My rule is no kissing, Elrond. I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think I’d enjoy it either.” Elrond responded glibly, earning a snarl from the blond warrior above him.  
  
“Careful, Elrond. You shouldn’t attract so much attention to yourself.”  
  
“If I didn’t bow to Sauron, I am not going to bow down to you.” Elrond said matter-of-factly. “Frankly, you seem like your behavior doesn’t get challenged enough.”  
  
“My father doesn’t care enough to discipline me. He sends me into the forest because he doesn’t know what to do with me. And then he forces me to come back here so he can make everyone hate me more than they previously did.”  
  
“You could just disappoint him, you know.” Elrond suggested. “You could be on your best behavior when you visit.”  
  
“I don’t want anything to do with them!” Legolas growled. He leaned over Elrond, eyes scanning him closely. He had yet to touch him, but Elrond knew they were coming to that.  
  
“Why? They’re your family.” Elrond didn’t have to pretend to be shocked. He would be heartbroken if any of his children felt the way Legolas clearly did.  
  
“Oh, don’t get all worried on my behalf. My family has been at odds since each of us was born.” Legolas chuckled. He raised a hand, pressing it against Elrond’s cheek before touching one of Elrond’s ears. “Wood elves have sensitive ears. Do you as well?”  
  
“Not usually.” Although Elrond’s breath hitched as Legolas explored behind his ear, tracing down to his neck and then to his chest.  
  
“I must say you’ve been very accommodating.” Legolas cocked his head. “You haven’t screamed or run away. You haven’t tried to escape.”  
  
“You sounded disappointed.” Elrond commented as that hand slid down the planes of his stomach, teasing the edge of his underwear. Legolas shrugged.  
  
“I enjoy the hunt. A trait I think I share with your sons.” Elrond flinched.  
  
“It truly was an accident. I saw it from all their eyes.” Legolas lit up at the mention of Elrond’s power. It was incredible how often they forgot about his power.  
  
“Did you go into his mind?” Legolas asked casually, even as his heartbeat increased.  
  
“Yes.” Elrond answered.  
  
“Did he think of me before he died?” Elrond looked back. It was hard to focus with Legolas intent on sliding his undergarments down bit by bit.  
  
“No.” Elrond wasn’t sure he should apologize with the look that crossed Legolas’ face.  
  
“Good.” Whatever it was on Legolas’ hardened into something close to mithril. “I’m glad.” He glanced down at Elrond. “Strip. I’m going to get the oil.” Elrond did as he was told, sensing Legolas had no more patience for the evening. “Get on your hands and knees.” Legolas paused. “I- I don’t slow down for anyone.” It was odd, different from how he had been earlier. It was an odd courtesy to warn Elrond as to what to expect in his bed.  
  
“I’ve fought on the slopes of Mount Doom.” Elrond reminded him, impressed with himself with how confident he sounded. “I can handle rough sex.” He didn’t know the last time he had rough, feral sex which was about to happen between them. As if Legolas was a wild animal in the spring and Elrond was a new mate. He took the position ordered, forcing himself to relax as Legolas slid two oiled fingers inside of him.  
  
“Good.” Legolas slid them in and out a few times before removing them entirely. The healer in Elrond was startled by the implications, knew what to prepare for, but experiencing Legolas roughly shoving in with barely any proper preparation was another thing entirely. He let out a low grunt and Legolas laughed. “I will make you scream one way or another.” It was an ugly promise and Elrond vowed to never let him make it true. Legolas set a punishing pace, tearing things that shouldn’t be torn. Elrond took it with the detached professionalism of a healer and a warrior who had seen terrible things and knew when to not be fully present.  
  
But after, no, through the pain, Elrond couldn’t deny the spark of pleasure in his belly. It had been such a long time since he had done anything with anyone and despite the wildness of it all, it felt good to be filled again. It brought him back to his days as a soldier before he was married, when he was exploring all kinds of relationships. And so he met Legolas’ thrusts, shoving back a few times which made the archer’s pace stutter in surprise before he rallied, spurred on by Elrond’s… enthusiasm. When one of Legolas’ hands wandered from his hips to grip Elrond’s heavy cock, Elrond nearly cried out save for pride. It had been a long time and he was accepting of all that Legolas had given him. Elrond didn’t last much longer after that, spending himself over the prince’s hand. Legolas came a few moments later, filling him up, before he collapsed on top of him.  
  
Elrond gently lowered himself down and let them both lay there, sprawled out, sweating and panting. The smell of sex was undeniable as had been the pleasure. Legolas eased out of him after a few minutes, as if the skin to skin contact was too much. Elrond was enjoying the warmth, the comfort of another body, as Legolas rolled off of him, lying down next to him. “You’re not what I expected.” Legolas said after they caught their breath.  
  
“Neither are you.” Elrond eyed him carefully. Legolas met his gaze before he made a shooing motion.  
  
“You can sleep by the fire.” On the floor was left unsaid. Elrond’s offense must have shown because Legolas laughed. “I brought you here to fuck, not warm my bed. I prefer to sleep alone.” Legolas watched as Elrond rolled up, sitting up on the edge of the bed. His back was still, his spine proud, as he retrieved his undergarments and then his robe. “I didn’t say you could cover up. I might need you later.”  
  
“I am not going to freeze just so you can see some bare skin.” Elrond retorted, his temper feeling short as he lay down on the floor. He could feel Legolas’ release and his own blood sliding out of him. He couldn’t explain how it made him feel and he didn’t want to. Legolas was quiet before he shoved a pillow and a blanket off the bed. Elrond was tempted to throw them back in his face, but he took the offering for what it was. There was kindness still inside that dark heart, kindness hidden under a mask just as impressive as Thranduil’s.  
  
He slept fitfully, as one does when a predator is nearby, waiting to pounce, but Legolas let him sleep until the morning. And then he started in for round two.

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Legolas had sent Elrond back to his room in the servant quarters when Thranduil came in.

“No knock?” Legolas asked as he pulled on fresh clothes for the day. He had just scrubbed himself clean, removed all traces of the Half-elven from his body.

“I trust you had a good night.” Legolas narrowed his eyes at his father. 

“The Half-elven was just as stuffy as I thought he’d be. I sent him off as soon as I was done with my dinner.”

“Legolas, please.” Thranduil rolled his eyes. “I can smell the sex in the room. I saw him limp down the hallway just this morning.”

“He was limping?” Legolas couldn’t help but grin. “But he was so stoic.”

“Gross.” Thranduil winced. “You are determined to ruin this family and I don’t understand why. Sleeping with the Half-elven is just another way to get at me, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re smarter than you look.” Legolas deadpanned. He didn’t feel like fighting with his father today. It was part of the reason he had lied. 

“Why do you always push me away?” Thranduil asked.

“Because that’s what you taught me to do.” Legolas frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. “I needed you to be there for me and you shoved me away, sending me to the woods. You wouldn’t believe me!”

“Are we still talking about this?” Thranduil’s face closed. “He’s dead, Legolas. Let whatever your issue was with him die with him.”

“You didn’t protect me.” Legolas pushed even though he knew how this conversation would always go.

“You didn’t need protecting.” Legolas jerked back as if the words had physically stung him. 

“I’m going back to the woods.” He said carefully as he filled with ice from his head to his toes.

“Good.” Thranduil turned and left, hesitating at the door. Whatever words he wanted to say were left unsaid as he continued out the door. Legolas watched him go, his eyes burning with rage.

“Fuck this family!” He muttered, packing his things quickly, and heading out the door. He sneaked out through the servant quarters, not wanting to run into any of his remaining siblings. 

“Legolas?” Elrond had seen him. Legolas could see how the night and the following morning had worn on the Elf-Lord.

“Goodbye, Elrond.” He said coldly as he passed him, bumping into him with his shoulder, knocking him back against the wall. “Thanks for the fuck.” He said loudly enough so the other servants could hear him. Legolas noticed how Elrond’s face flushed, but whether it was with anger or shame, he didn’t know. He didn’t care to know. He headed out the door without another glance back, leaving Elrond to sort through what the hell had just happened.

Elrond didn’t want to sort through what had just happened. He wanted to go scrub himself clean.

“Elrond.” He heard Thranduil call out to him just as he was about to enter the baths.

“Yes, King Thranduil?” He paused, holding his robe closed tightly. 

“I want you to polish the silver today.” He glanced at the empty baths behind Elrond. “After you bathe, of course.” Elrond wanted to gape like a fish, but he knew the sentiment would not be appreciated. Thranduil had his pride as did Legolas.

“I thought I was on barrel duty today.” Elrond’s brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Well, consider it my thanks for keeping my youngest son busy last night.” Elrond opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Shame flushed through his whole body, so strong that he couldn’t ignore it, even if he had the king’s gratitude. “You single-handedly saved dinner, so thank you.” And then, the King of Mirkwood awkwardly turned away and left. Elrond felt even more confused, but he also knew he was tired. He had not slept well last night-- he was sore in places he would rather not be. But still, the night before hadn’t been terrible. He had enjoyed it at times. He could do without the constant mind games, but he had a strong sense that Legolas was the second reason he had come here. He also sensed it wouldn’t be easy. He would have to be consistent with the youngest prince. But by the Valar, his own patience felt sorely tested.

He sank into the warm waters without a second thought, letting the heat do what he could not. He scrubbed thoroughly, removing any trace of Legolas from his skin. He did not want to remember him right now.

Legolas was gone for months on end, only returning for the end of the year celebration. Mirkwood was blanketed in thick snow and Elrond was usually tasked with breaking the ice on the river to retrieve water. He didn’t mind. It gave him something physical to do-- something to pour his frustration into. The ice wasn’t hurt when he smashed through it. He was tired of the games that Thranduil liked to play, with his family and with his people. Elrond thought he was being foolish, as per usual, but there was nothing he could say, not in this role. Thranduil had already warned him what would happen if he was found out of line yet again.

Elrond had spent millennia after millennia fighting against injustice. He didn’t know why Thranduil thought he could change him after all this time. But he took the warning to heart, was more careful with where and who he helped. He made sure to use aliases too. Most of Mirkwood didn’t recognize him and those who did, just didn’t care. Thranduil’s annoyance with the Half-elven had trickled down through his kingdom, although little else had.

But now Legolas was back and Elrond found himself waiting for summons, summons that never came. Instead Legolas took a young maiden to bed, a young maiden who promptly burst into tears the next morning when she came to serve the family breakfast. Thranduil dismissed her with a glare at his youngest, a glare that was promptly ignored. 

“Elrond.” Thranduil called him in. “Please.” Elrond nodded and took the young maiden’s place, serving the royal family. Legolas ignored Elrond completely, something that Elrond felt like he should be grateful for. However, he was puzzled by the behavior-- though he made no move to change it. He was more angry that Legolas had been so cruel to the young maiden. She was new to the palace-- had been so excited to work in the palace. For most of the elves, serving the royal family was a great honor and Elrond hated that Legolas had somehow cheapened that for her. 

So Elrond ignored Legolas in return, going about his duties, until the dining room was empty and he was still picking up. Legolas had remained. He was watching Elrond closely instead of ignoring him now that his family was gone.

“You don’t seem pleased to see me.” He broke his silence finally.

“I’m not.” Elrond responded calmly.

“Has my father poisoned you against me in my absence?”

“You don’t need anyone to help you in poisoning people against you. What you did to Arryen was cruel.”

“Arryen? Oh, is that her name?” Legolas asked, grinning wickedly. Elrond didn’t bother to conceal his annoyance, knocking his elbow against the back of the prince’s head as he carried his tray by him. Legolas jerked forward as Elrond made contact. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but enough so that Legolas knew it wasn’t an accident. Legolas’ blue eyes gleamed with the promise of revenge but was interrupted by his father who had just returned into the room and had witnessed the whole exchange.

“Courtyard, Half-elven, now.” Thranduil swallowed hard, eyes as cold as elven steel. Elrond placed the tray down and obeyed. It was worth it. It was so worth it to see the anger and surprise in Legolas’ eyes. Perhaps the princeling would learn to treat others with a little more kindness now that he knew at least one person would stand up for them.

Elrond was met by guards in the courtyard, guards who stripped him of his robes and shackled his wrists together. The chain was looped over a statue built for this single purpose and Elrond’s hands were stretched above his head. Thranduil said nothing to Elrond, but handed the whip over to his son.

“No more than ten lashes.” He said firmly. Legolas nodded, confirming he had heard before he turned to face Elrond’s bare back that waited for his judgment. He was as cruel and sharp with a whip as he was with his words. Elrond refused to scream although he came close. By the Valar, he had come so close when Legolas beat him with a fury five extra lashes than Thranduil had said. “Send him to the healers.” Thranduil ordered the guards. “And then lock him up for his room for the rest of the day.”

“Ada.” Legolas came by his father. “Send him to my rooms for the rest of the day. I feel like him and I have some things we need to discuss.” Thranduil studied his son and then Elrond for a moment. 

“You can have him tomorrow night, Legolas. Let him recover from this before he has to endure another night with you.” Legolas sniffed.

“Pity. I was sure I’d have him screaming tonight.”

“He is a ruler of another land.” Thranduil whispered in his wayward son’s ear. “Please remember that before you keep playing games with him. You might win some minor battles against Elrond, but I’ve learned from experience that it is near impossible to win the war.”

It was a begrudging compliment, but Elrond would take it. It would be a nice distraction as he was roughly cleaned with frigid, winter water. It would give him something to pull apart and think on while the healer was tending his back. His back burned with fire and blood. He could still feel Legolas’ quiet rage, although not all of it had been directed at him. Perhaps Elrond would have to pick his battles with Legolas if Thranduil was going to have him beaten each time they sparred.

He lay on his stomach in his bed, letting out a broken sob. At least Thranduil had shown him mercy by locking him in his room for the night. He couldn’t face Legolas like this-- he didn’t want to face him at all.


	5. Chapter 5

Elrond’s room was unlocked in the morning, but he couldn’t find the energy or the strength to get up. When the other servants tried to get him up, he just turned away. He felt empty, so terribly empty, like he had been swallowed whole by darkness. The darkness was so very heavy.

“Where is Elrond?” Thranduil asked the next morning at breakfast. “He is supposed to be here.”

“He’s n-not well.” It ended up being Arryn who spoke up; Arryn who refused to look at the youngest prince at the table. Thranduil frowned.

“I’ll send a healer.” He replied after a long minute. “See what they have to say.”

“Isn’t he a healer?” Legolas asked casually. “I’m sure he could tell you himself what is wrong with him.” He was unsure by the flicker of concern in his chest. Elrond seemed invincible— a few hits with a whip surely weren’t enough to bring him low. Thranduil ignored his son as he was prone to do.

“Send for the healer.” He instructed Arryn. “You can watch over Elrond until she gets here.” Arryn nodded, taking her leave.

“Why’d you dismiss her? I’m sure he’s fine.” Legolas rolled his eyes.

“You were too cruel to her.” Thranduil said softly. It was one of the first times Legolas heard him ever agree with the Half-elven. “I’m not going to force her to remain in the same room with you for too long. I’m glad your mother didn’t live long enough to see what you turned into.” Legolas sighed, but didn’t retort. He focused on his wine instead. He was glad she didn’t see either. He wouldn’t want her memory tarnished like his relationship with his father was. He’d like to think she’d believe him, but everyone loved Iliumal. Everyone believed him over his brothers, no matter how much they protested.

Thranduil didn’t speak to Legolas the rest of breakfast, not that he spoke to the other four sons at the table all that much either. Legolas didn’t want to talk with him either. 

“What is troubling you?” The healer sucked in a breath when Elrond eased the blanket down. “Those whip wounds look infected. I expected more from you, Elrond.”

“I am disappointed in myself as well, Mithes.” Elrond cracked a faint smile.

“What’s wrong? You’re naught but a shadow of yourself.”

“I don’t have the energy to pretend anymore.” Elrond turned away. He lay on his stomach, letting her tend to his back. She made sure to apply a fresh poultice and bandage them with clean strips of cloth after she meticulously cleaned each stripe. 

“You have an ailment of the heart and mind.” Mithes understood. 

“I have no purpose.” Elrond winced. “I thought I did, but I don’t. There’s nothing to distract me from the emptiness inside of me.”

“From what I’ve heard, you are here to protect your son.” Mithes reminded him kindly. “And I daresay, the wayward prince of Mirkwood looks to you despite himself.” 

“He only wanted my body for the night.”

“Perhaps at first.” Mithes said mysteriously. “But he still stopped me before I came in here and paid me extra to make sure you were all right.”

“He said that?”

“In his own way.” She shrugged. She was far older than Elrond, her long hair white and unbound. She was still fair, with eyes of violet. Her hands were tattooed, a practice long forgotten, the honor only for healers, good healers at that. “He doesn’t put money for much, Elrond. Money says something that words can’t. But perhaps I’m too ancient to know what I’m talking about. Perhaps you are in too dark of a place to accept a little light.”

“I daresay it’s the latter.” Elrond felt appropriately chastised. “I’m sorry, Mithes. I miss my valley. I miss my sons and my daughter. I miss my library. I miss tending to my patients. I miss my home. These woods are suffocating, this stone feels as if it’s about to cave in on me at any second, and the mind games in this palace make my head spin. I do not understand the need for so much coldness and deceit. It cuts into my--”

“It cuts into your fea.” Mithes’ violet eyes lit up in understanding. “I will make some suggestions to the king.”

“No!” Elrond was horrified. “I do not want him to know how low I am. He will think he has won.” Mithes waited for him to finish before she tsked under her breath. 

“He may hold grudges for too long, but he will not willingly torment another elf to the shadow. You need fresh air, light, and friends. And you need to find peace in your own heart. Remember why you came here in the first place. The years will pass soon enough and you may find as you return to your lovely valley that your heart misses friends under these trees. You have been granted an opportunity in a horrible situation to strengthen ties with Mirkwood in ways you have never thought of.”

“I’m certainly not going to end up married.” Mithes smiled, shaking her head.

“No, I doubt that will happen, but I do think you will find yourself with more friends than enemies when you leave.” She started packing up her bag. “I have to go. There is an elf maiden about to have her first elfling.” Elrond perked up at that. “I don’t need any help.” She laughed. “But if I do, I will send for you.”

“I would gladly assist.”

“This I know.” She touched his shoulder gently, avoiding the bandages. “You are not without friends, Elrond. Things will be all right in time, you’ll see.”

“Thank you, Mithes. I would love to work with you some time. It’s been a while since I’ve met a healer who could teach me something new.” She smiled at his genuine flattery. 

“Perhaps when the king is more inclined to put you to work where you’d actually be useful, but you’re welcome. Don’t make me come back here.” She teased lightly. “Namarie.”

“Namarie.” Elrond stretched out on his bed, reflecting on all that she had said. She was right, of course she was right. She had earned the tattoos on her hands. He was tired, lonely, and empty. Legolas had been a distraction from taking care of himself. He felt like a fish out of water, gasping for breath as he struggled to survive. How did the royal family of Mirkwood live like this? How had Thranduil managed to only have one son like Legolas? Elrond felt as if he understood the youngest prince better, but not with the intent to lose himself in trying to save Legolas again. Legolas didn’t need saving. Perhaps, all the two of them needed were friends. Elrond didn’t see much hope for himself, but Legolas was handsome and skilled, surely he could make friends if he so desired to. 

Elrond sank back into the darkness, letting it drag him back down. His bed was comfortable and his thoughts were back home, walking along the waterfalls, hearing the laughter of his children. He was far away from Mirkwood in his mind and that was what he needed most right now. He would try to face reality tomorrow, but he just couldn’t do it today.

“How is he?” Legolas was waiting out in the hallway, pretending that he hadn’t been listening in. Mithes looked at him suspiciously, but if she suspected his eavesdropping she didn’t comment on it.

“He needs time and rest.” She bowed as he was due to his rank. Not that she usually cared for such things, but the fact he was taking interest in someone other than himself was a good sign. He was the most like his mother, looked the most like her too, before he had turned dark and wrathful. Mithes had always guessed something had happened, but Thranduil wasn’t in the habit of calling in healers for ‘behavioral issues.’ “He will recover, my prince.”

“What if--” Legolas halted himself there, hearing how ridiculous it sounded. He bit his lip, his face already hardening, lapsing back behind his mask.

“If you wanted to be kind, my prince, he could use some fresh air and time away from all this stone.”

“Rivendell is much more open.” Legolas found himself nodding. 

“Namarie, Prince Legolas.”

“Namarie.” He murmured, his mind already racing as he tried to think of the best place to bring Elrond in his current condition. He barged inside Elrond’s room a few hours later. It was night and the stars were out somewhere above the trees. “Get up.” He shook Elrond by the shoulder, forgetting about the bandages.

“Fuck.” Elrond gasped, fingers clutching at his blankets. “I will get up if you promise on the fucking Valar to never do that again!”

“Sorry.” Legolas shifted from one foot to the other. “I kind of forgot.”

“You clearly didn’t forget I was supposed to be in your rooms tonight.” Elrond fired back. He had dark shadows under his eyes, shadows that Legolas found he didn’t care for. 

“Get dressed.” Elrond grabbed the robe being tossed at him. “You’ll have to borrow one of my cloaks.”

“Is this when you take me into the woods and murder me?” Elrond asked and Legolas snapped.

“Just fucking listen!” He hissed, frustration and anxiety building in his chest. He was angry Elrond was pushing him away when he was trying to do something nice. He was scared that Elrond would just laugh at him when they got where Legolas wanted to bring Elrond. “Boots.” He dropped some fur-lined boots on the floor. “You have five minutes.” He wanted to pace in the hall, burn some of his nervous, agitated energy before he ruined this too.

“If you’ll help me…” Elrond eyed him, letting that almost request hang between them for a moment… “I’ll be much faster.”

“Fine.” Legolas wasted no time bundling Elrond up and helping him into the boots. “I’m sorry.” He blurted.

“For what?” Elrond gave him an incredulous look.

“Your back.” Legolas took a step back now that Elrond was ready. He didn’t need to stand so close. “I didn’t have to go so hard. I was just so angry.”

“I get angry too, Legolas. I just don’t take it out so much on others.” Legolas laughed bitterly, already heading towards the door as if he could outrun those words. 

“Come on, Elrond. I have something to show you.”

“I’m intrigued.” But Elrond followed him anyway, out into the cold, night air, under the suffocating stone and tree boughs overhead.


	6. Chapter 6

Elrond knew better than to ask where they were going. He couldn’t quite read Legolas right now. Perhaps he wanted to fuck Elrond out in the woods. Wood elves had their quirks as did all the other elves as well. Elrond hadn’t had sex outside since he was all but an elfling. He certainly had never had it in a forest. He didn’t feel like having sex. It was too cold and he was too tired. He could barely put one foot in front of the other, forget getting it up. Forget getting fucked. 

Legolas was stalking ahead of him, alert and ready. He had made a point of bringing all his weapons. He looked like the proud warrior prince he had been raised to be. Elrond admired his bow, knowing from experience about the calluses on Legolas’ hands. Legolas peered behind him and Elrond faltered mid-step.

“That healer lied.” Legolas hissed. “You’re not all right.”

“I never said I was and knowing Mithes, she never said that either.”

“She implied you were better off that you are. Your fea… is low. Dim.”

“You can pick up on other’s feas?” Elrond’s eyebrows raised. Legolas waited for him to catch up before offering his arm. Elrond looked at it as if it was a snake, poised to bite. 

“Not that I’ll usually admit it.” Legolas said softly. “People expect me to behave better when they learn I can pick up on others. I can see their feas, yes, but I have taught myself not to care.”

“Why?” Elrond slid his arm against Legolas’ arm, taking the offer for what it was. It was help. Elrond needed help even though it pained his pride to acknowledge that. Legolas wasn't fooled.

“You are as proud as my father and just as loathe to admit it.” Legolas observed with a smirk. “And I learned early on that seeing feas was not a useful gift for a prince to have. We are expected to lie and to lie well. It's hard to do that when you can see how much the lie is hurting the other person. At least, until I learned to block it out.”

“You seemed to have learned that all right.” It was a gentle teasing, but Legolas still tossed his hair behind his shoulder. Even when he was wounded, Elrond could hit too close to mark. Legolas wasn't always proud of what he had become. 

“Tell me this, Elrond, if everyone believes you are lying when you say it, is the truth still the truth?”

“Is it your truth?” Elrond asked.

“It was my experience.” Legolas answered carefully. He stopped in front of a large, old oak tree, one with stairs wrapping around this. "Up we go." Legolas changed the subject. "Think you can make it?"

“I feel as if I am in Lothlorien.” Elrond remarked, taking in the architecture that was foreign for these woods. “It’s beautifully done though.” He could see the Lorien design but with the Mirkwood touches. He should reach out to Galadriel soon-- it would be good to see her. He should talk to her about all these dark feelings. She knew the best ways to stay connected to the light. 

“Iliumal was inspired by his trip there.” Legolas shrugged. “Do you want to go first or would you like me to?” Elrond didn’t know-- didn’t want to make a decision-- Legolas could tell. “I will help you.” Legolas said carefully, jumping up to the first stair. He held his hand out and even though Elrond hesitated, he took the offered hand. Legolas could see the caution. It was clear on the Half-elven’s face that he was expecting the worst. Legolas would normally feel pride over that, but with Elrond, he felt a pang of remorse. He didn’t like that-- shoving it away as quickly as it had come.

Elrond’s hands were cold. Legolas would give him his gloves once they got to the top of the steps. It was quite a way up, but Elrond made good time despite his injuries. They cleared the canopy and Legolas kept himself from turning when he heard Elrond’s sharp intake of breath.

Elrond closed his eyes, sure he was dreaming, but when he opened them again, the wide forest was still there beneath his feet. “Beautiful, isn’t it? It is certainly less suffocating up here.” He added on innocently. Elrond narrowed his eyes up at the prince.

“You were listening in.” Elrond knew that Mithes would never betray him by spilling his secrets to the cold prince. 

“I wanted to help.” Legolas shrugged.

“That was private.”

“I won’t tell my father.”

“I didn’t want either of you knowing.” Elrond glared.

“That’s fair.” Legolas mused. “I haven’t been that kind to you.”

“Don’t you dare start now because you pity me.” Elrond scoffed.

“I’m not.” Legolas rolled his eyes. He led Elrond up the rest of the way, to the small platform with a canopy to protect them from the snowflakes lazily drifting down. “I just thought you should see the stars.” His eyes glittered in the faint light. “I’ve always found them the brightest out here in the forest.” Elrond sucked in a breath, staring up at the sky. He glanced over at Legolas, catching him watching him staring at the sky.

“Why?” Elrond’s question was ragged, a plain truth to how they had been wearing him down.

“I wanted to help.” Legolas lifted a shoulder. “Please don’t ask me why again.” His eyes flashed. Elrond nodded stiffly, respecting the boundary. Legolas didn’t know why he was surprised. Elrond was always full of surprises to him. 

“We should head to your rooms.” Elrond said after a few minutes. Legolas just shook his head. 

“I’ll wait at the bottom of the tree, Elrond.” Legolas replied softly, taking off his gloves and handing them over to Elrond with a pointed look. “Take your time.” He hurried down the steps before Elrond could stop him, before he started staring at the Half-elven again. His kindness wore Legolas thin and he did not want to ruin this. He had a tendency to ruin everything else. He perched on the bottom, sitting there on the stairs, one of his knives drawn in case a spider dared to step out of their webs and surprise them. It wasn’t likely with how close they were to the city, but Legolas had been caught off guard before. He had sworn that it would never happen again.

Elrond pulled on Legolas' gloves. They were still warm from the archer's hands. And then he tilted his head up to the heavens, soaking in the familiar sight of his favorite stars.He knew most of the recorded ones by name, his eyes tracing the delicate constellations. He sighed, feeling the most at peace he had felt since that terrible accident. He closed his eyes, feeling the starlight on his skin all the way down to his fea. He sucked in a breath, taking in the fresh, sharp, winter air. He wasn’t suffocating, no, up here he was free. It took him a minute to register that hot tears of relief were streaming down his cheeks as he sucked in another shaky breath. Legolas had shown him more than kindness tonight. The prince had surprised him and had touched his weary heart. He still felt wary, still expected Legolas to turn on him, but for tonight, he could accept all of this. The Valar knew how much he needed it. 

Perhaps things were not as hopeless as they had previously seemed. Perhaps he wasn’t as alone as he felt. And when he descended the stairs after soaking up as much of the stars as he dared, he couldn't help but feel gratitude for the elf he found at the bottom of the flet, sitting on guard. He couldn't help but feel curious once more. What had happened to Legolas and why had no one helped him? 


	7. Chapter 7

Legolas walked him back to the city, taking him down streets Elrond had never seen before. The streets were lit up for the festivities. Elves were dancing, singing, drinking, and talking with their friends and family. There was warmth in this part of the city, joy even.

“I envy them.” Legolas broke the silence as he leaned towards Elrond. “They’re so carefree.”

“They have their troubles.” Elrond responded. “But they’ve laid them down for right now.”

“I don’t know how to do that.” Legolas admitted with a troubled sigh. “I don’t dare lay down my rage for fear it will never return.”

“Anger keeps us safe when no one else will.” Legolas’ head whipped to the side. 

“What do you know?” It was an accusation, as cold as the winter wind that whipped through the streets and spat snowflakes down from the sky.

“Nothing.” Elrond shook his head. “You’ve left hints for me to follow and then block me before I can get close.” Legolas cocked his head, but Elrond finished before he could interrupt. “And that’s okay. You don’t need to tell anyone anything you don’t want to.” Legolas studied him, his gaze no less piercing from the first night Elrond had met him.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Legolas scoffed, turning his attention back to the dancing elves. 

“I might surprise you.” Elrond quipped, alluding back to the night they spent together. Legolas looked over at him, eyes lighter than they were previously. He was clever. They both were. “Come on.” Elrond pulled him towards the group of elves. Elrond pulled him right towards the center where everyone would see them. Legolas panicked for a second-- he hated being the center of attention, regardless of what everyone thought of him.

“Elrond, no!” Legolas pulled back, but Elrond was stronger than he had anticipated. They were near the center of the celebration with everyone’s attention on them. 

“We can’t disappoint them since we’ve already joined.” There was a twinkle in Elrond’s eyes, a twinkle Legolas had seen in the stars from the flet. Elrond’s fea had brightened considerably. It distracted Legolas from his fear, and so he let Elrond pull him into the dance, stumbling over the steps as he tried to remember. He quickly got the hang of it, letting Elrond spin him around, laughing as they danced together. The city blurred around him and for a few, precious moments, Legolas forgot all the weight he had been carrying around.

Afterwards, Legolas walked Elrond back to the servant quarters. 

“Thank you.” He bowed stiffly. Elrond openly stared at him and Legolas gave him a wolfish grin in return. “I do know my manners, Elrond, I just rather not use them most of the time.” Elrond chose wisely not to comment on that.

“I should be thanking you. I do thank you. Your kindness has helped to ease my soul.” Elrond replied not without feeling.

“You’re welcome then.” Legolas cracked a tentative smile. He looked around Elrond’s room. It was small and the air was stale and heavy. “You need better rooms.”

“I’m fine.” Elrond took of his gloves and handed them back to Legolas. “Thank you for these as well.” Legolas shook his head. 

“Hang on to them, Elrond.” He retreated towards the door. “You can return them after this week. It’s supposed to be quite cold.” He eyed Elrond’s robe, making a mental note that he needed some new clothes too. No wonder the Half-elven had been feeling the shadow— they neglected him as much as the rest of them. Legolas would see what he could do about that, not that Elrond would be able to trace it back to him. He didn’t want all the gratitude and warmness. He just wanted Elrond to be… taken care of.

It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling when he realized it. It made him feel like his skin was crawling. He hadn’t felt that sensation in a long time and he didn’t want to feel it ever again. But he didn’t want to hurt Elrond either. He had been… cruel to the Half-elven. Legolas didn’t want to be cruel to him anymore. He’d just find a way to satisfy these two opposite cravings: one to get closer and one to push him away and shatter him into a thousand pieces. Maybe sex would help. Sex helped everything else. Ah, but Elrond was in for the night and Legolas did not want to show up looking for favors. That really would ruin the evening. He was halfway down the hallway when Elrond’s door opened up behind him.

“Legolas.” He turned so fast he almost stumbled. “My apologies! I didn’t mean to startle you.” Elrond raised a hand, looking repentant. “I just-- do you want to stay the night?”

“In there?” Legolas asked. “With you?”

“Yes.” Elrond chuckled not unkindly, giving him time to process. Legolas did not know where the Elf-lord found his patience. It was almost infuriating. 

“You don’t have to do anything with me because of tonight.” Legolas heard himself say. Elrond raised an eyebrow, the only sign of the surprise inside. He merely stepped back into his room, holding the door open. “Okay, I’m coming.” Legolas jogged over. “But really.” Elrond looked over at him with an intensity that frightened the archer if he was being honest. “Okay.” He ducked into the room and removed his weapons with precision that only came from strict practice. Elrond showed him a place he could keep them and Legolas made a note of how little Elrond had here. No wonder he was struggling. He felt less at home here than Legolas did. “I might ruin things.” Legolas said quietly.

“I’m counting on it.” Elrond sat on his bed, silently peeling off layers until Legolas could see his bare skin and bandages. 

“You’re hurt.”

“Do you just not want to fuck?” Elrond asked suddenly. “Because you can say that and I will stop.”

“I-I,” Legolas shoved his first reaction deep inside. He would deal with that alone in the woods when he returned to his lonely outpost. “I want to fuck.”

“Then let’s fuck.” Elrond smiled invitingly over at him, moving to his hands and knees. Legolas looked at him in wonder until the lust kicked in. “There he is.” Legolas had oil somewhere in his pack, always liked to be prepared. People didn’t have to like him to want to fuck him, something he used to his advantage quite often. He oiled up his fingers and breached Elrond quickly. Elrond moved with him, going so far as to impale himself on Legolas’ fingers. Legolas opened him up carefully this time before he wiped his hands clean. He left Elrond open and wanting so that he could strip. Elrond eyed him appreciatively as he bared his own skin. He had never noticed the Half-elven looking at him like that before. He smirked, playing with himself when he saw where Elrond was looking. Elrond who groaned with anticipation.

“I like you like this.” Legolas knew he shouldn’t open his mouth. He shouldn’t wreck the atmosphere of want and need and pure lust that was building up between them. “Waiting for me like a needy slut.” He watched the shock at his words travel through Elrond’s body, an open book that was waiting for him. He reached over and yanked the hair tie out of Elrond’s hair, ignoring how Elrond had said no.

He knew it was intimate to have unbound hair around other elves. It was something usually reserved for spouses… Elrond had lost a spouse. Legolas had never seen him with his hair not done, usually tied half up and half down. He didn’t wear his braids here. Whether that was for his father or for the Elf-Lord, Legolas didn’t know. He did know that he had just crossed some invisible line that even Elrond hadn’t known he had. “You look beautiful.” Elrond scoffed, shifting his position slightly as his back had begun to ache. Legolas noted the tension and pushed down on Elrond’s shoulder. “Lie down.” He jerked Elrond to the side, so his legs were spilling over the side of his small bed. “Your bed is so small.” Legolas lapsed back to his usual bedside manner: rough, fast, and mean. He slicked up his cock and shoved in, garbling whatever answer Elrond had tried to give him.

This was the one thing he was good at. The one thing he couldn’t mess up because he didn’t care enough to know whether or not his partners liked what he was doing. Elrond was the only one with whom he could easily tell and Legolas had a feeling it was because Elrond was a clear communicator in every aspect of his life.

He held Elrond by the hips, driving into him with force and speed that made him forget his own name. It was blissful here, this in between. This was how he could connect with others and they couldn’t hurt him. Elrond was gripping on to his bed for dear life, moaning something that sounded like Legolas’ name, something he could barely hear over the rushing blood in his ears. He reached over with one hand, wrapping Elrond’s long, brown hair around his fingers before he pulled. Elrond let out a wounded sound as he was forced to bend his back. Legolas didn’t let go. Legolas didn’t slow down. 

He was close, so close when he pulled out. Elrond hadn’t come yet either, but Legolas had something else in mind. He sat on Elrond’s bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, his legs splayed open. “Suck me.” He ordered. Elrond gave him a baleful look, one that had certainly commanded armies by the looks of it. He had Legolas’ member standing at attention, that was for sure. Legolas raised his eyebrows. It was a challenge to see if Elrond would debase himself even further for the prince. He would never admit it, but he liked defiling Elrond. He liked knowing that the Elf-lord was as filthy as he was when he was done with him.

Elrond moved stiffly, his back screaming at him to stop for the love of the Valar, but he wasn’t ready to sever this connection with Legolas yet. He had the vision of Legolas wanting when the prince had left and so he had invited him in, knowing just how it would go. He had found himself wanting the vision, wanting their connection to last just a little bit longer. He didn’t want to go back to the darkness or the heaviness just yet. Legolas had light in him, light he was sharing with Elrond, even if it was so twisted in this moment. He crawled back onto the bed that could barely hold the two of them and dipped his head low, his hair spilling down as he took Legolas’ cock into his mouth. 

Legolas groaned loudly, wrapping his fingers into Elrond’s hair like he owned him, like he was important to him, and pulled, sending shivers racing down Elrond’s spine. Pain and pleasure were always intertwined when it came to the prince but he found that when they were finally in the moment, he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind one bit as Legolas tugged on his hair again.

They would talk about the hair issue after Elrond took Legolas’ release down his throat. He found that he wanted to know what Legolas sounded like when he tipped over the edge. What he discovered surprised him. Legolas was quiet, his pleasure nearly vibrating out of his core as he let loose what had been building up and then he sagged to the side, his breaths coming out hard and fast. He let Elrond’s hair go only to start mindlessly running his fingers through it.

“How was that, Prince Legolas?” Elrond asked cheekily when Legolas started to stir, the dreamlike expression fading from his face. He looked around, eyes darting around the room, as if he was trying to remember where he was. And then he looked down, relaxing when he recognized the face of the elf in bed with him.

“Half-elven.” He murmured, running his hand over Elrond’s long hair again.

“You know it’s inappropriate, right? It’s quite undignified to--” Elrond was cut off by a tired laugh.

“We don’t let dignity stand between us, Elrond, not anymore.” Elrond huffed a laugh at that, his cheek skimming Legolas’ thigh as he laid his head down. Legolas didn’t know what to do with that sign of submission. Then he realized he wasn’t submitting at all. Elrond was in pain, he was exhausted, and he still hadn’t come. Legolas moved quickly, gently getting Elrond to lie down on the length of the bed. He put a pillow under the Elf-lord’s head and then ducked his head down there, breathing in the scent of Elrond’s almost release. He hadn’t done this in a while, but he did it anyway, taking Elrond into his mouth and taking all his spend when he came a few minutes later. Elrond didn’t scream but Legolas hadn’t been trying to make him scream. He had just wanted Elrond to climax like he had. Elrond shuddered, sucking in a sharp breath as he reached for Legolas. He reached for Legolas in a way that made the prince’s heart ache. “I should go.”

“You could always sleep on the floor.” Elrond’s eyes were drooping, his breath relaxed and steady. “You could stay.”

“But my reputation…” Legolas put a hand over his heart mockingly.

“It’s already shit.” Elrond rumbled, already drifting off to sleep. He looked so peaceful that Legolas’ stomach twisted with an emotion he’d rather not name. Jealousy. He was jealous Elrond could be so at peace while he was always so tense. “Come, Legolas.” Elrond extended one last invitation.

“Just this once.” And the prince lay down next to him, burrowing under the blanket that was almost too small for the both of them. Elrond needed a bigger bed and better blankets. He needed a bigger room with windows and light too. “Thank you.” Legolas said softly, but thankfully Elrond didn’t respond, already resting peacefully. Then Legolas fell asleep also, curling close to the Elf-lord who was nearly asleep himself. He cracked open an eye, smiling softly to himself as he saw Legolas finally relaxed and at ease. He would that Legolas could feel such peace more often.


	8. Chapter 8

Elrond woke up to glorious warmth and the smooth slide of skin against skin. He opened his gray eyes, focusing on the Mirkwood prince who still slept peacefully, pressed up against him. Legolas looked young, no, unburdened when he slept. And then there were the scars, scars he had only faintly glimpsed. They were bare where the blanket had dipped down, revealing them to the morning light.

Elrond frowned, lapsing into what he truly was in his heart, a healer. Those were not scars from orcs or spiders who left jagged, ugly wounds. These scars were neat lines that had been carefully placed across Legolas’ abdomen and chest. Someone had deliberately and carefully hurt Legolas. Could it have been Iliumal? Elrond hated that he had come to that silent accusation so quickly, but it would explain Legolas if his brother had hurt him in some way. From the way he talked, Legolas certainly felt like his brother had hurt him in some way.

Legolas stirred and Elrond quickly closed his eyes. He didn’t want to ruin the peace by prying somewhere that Legolas clearly kept from others. He was a private elf, something Elrond understood and respected. Legolas started, sitting up quickly before he pulled the blankets up to his chest. He sucked in a breath, running a hand through his blond hair.

“Morning.” He grunted softly. “I know you’re awake, Elrond." Elrond peeked over with a soft smile, stretching out on his small bed. His body slid against Legolas’ who made a sound of appreciation. “Your bed is too small, but it is cozy.” His blue eyes were light as he looked over, taking in Elrond’s face. They were close, almost too close, but he could stand it for right now.

“I am so glad I could be such a gracious host.” Even sleepy, Elrond was articulate. Legolas almost envied him for it-- whenever he opened his mouth, he got in trouble. He shifted, the blanket falling down to his waist. 

“Don’t ask.” He shot Elrond a look when he realized his scars were bared.

“I wasn’t going to.” Elrond shook his head. “I learned early on as healer that it’s considered impolite to ask about scars that have already healed and don’t need my touch.” Legolas looked over at him warily. He wasn’t all that sure that these scars had healed, even if the scar tissue was fully formed. These scars cut deep. They cut into his fea and that had never healed. Not really. Legolas’ eyes traced over Elrond’s face and his still unbound hair, reaching over to capture a strand between his fingers. Elrond tsked quietly, but he let Legolas touch his hair anyway. 

“I know it’s improper.” Legolas’ eyes gleamed. “But it’s pretty.”

“Pretty?” Elrond raised an eyebrow at the blush rising up Legolas’ neck, to his fair cheeks.

“You have some of the longest hair I’ve seen.” Legolas commented casually.

“I am fairly old.” Elrond smirked. “I’ve had a long time to grow it.”

“Have you ever cut it?” Legolas was feeling daring as he ran his fingers over another strand. “I know I shouldn’t. My father would lecture me about sending the wrong kind of message, but I think you understand me better than that.” Elrond blinked. Legolas was very clearly saying that this didn’t mean anything and that was fair. Elrond had known this didn’t mean anything. However, some part of him felt confused. Even worse, that same part felt hurt. Fuck. He schooled his expression into something neutral and worst of all, Legolas noticed it. Legolas shifted, getting out of bed. “I should go.” They were back to the old script and Elrond sighed.

“No, my prince. I should get up and attend my other duties.” Legolas sucked in a troubled breath before he got dressed. He dressed quickly, with the speed and ease of someone who was used to vanishing from his partners’ bedrooms. “Legolas.” Elrond realized the cruelty of his words. “I did not mean--”

“Save it.” Legolas was cold once more, cold as the winter wind. He breezed by, grabbing his weapons, and was out the door before Elrond could think of words that might stop him.

“Last night was not a duty to me.” Elrond called out after him, wincing at his own words. He braced himself against the bed as he realized just how much last night had not been a duty.“What have I done?” He glanced at the dresser, grimacing when he saw Legolas’ gloves still lay there.

Legolas was racing through the woods, running as fast as he could. His heart felt as if it might burst from the exertion but he needed it. He needed to burn off whatever this was, but yet it was impossible with Elrond still on his skin, still on his mind. Fuck the Half-elven. Fuck his family. He sprinted through the trees before he swung himself up into the branches, not slowing down as he jumped from tree to tree with ease. He ran until he could run no more, sinking against the sturdy tree he found himself in.

He wouldn’t admit to the tears that fell, but his cheeks were wet without rain or snow.

“Fuck.” He growled softly. This was why he didn’t get close to people. Duty. All he was-- he was only a duty to Elrond. And he wasn’t sure why it hurt. He rubbed his clothed chest, feeling the scars hidden below. He just might have a new scar.

A few days had passed when his father’s sentries finally found him and brought him back to the palace. He was sullen, but he stayed silent. He would not voice what was inside-- the anger had faded and all that was left was emptiness and pain. Just like it had been before the anger came and saved him.

“Legolas.” He blinked, suddenly frozen when Elrond appeared in front of him. “Oh, Legolas, I looked everywhere for you.” He had only been back for five minutes-- Elrond really must have been looking for him. Too bad he didn’t care.

“I’m sure you had other duties to attend to than worry about me, Half-elven.” Legolas replied dully, staring through Elrond’s chest.

“Legolas.” Elrond’s hands were on his arms and Legolas’ skin was suddenly crawling. He pulled free, jerking away, his breathing hard and shallow. “Legolas.” Elrond was still there, boxing him in. Legolas was going to pull his knives out and cut him down where he stood. “Legolas.” Legolas drew in a shaky breath, finally raising his head to look Elrond in the eyes.

“I don’t want anything to do with you.” Legolas glared at him. “I want you to forget all about me, Elrond, everything you think you know. When I’m gone, don’t miss me. When I’m here, don’t talk to me. Don’t touch me.” He jabbed a sharp finger in the Half-elven’s face.

“If that’s what you want.” Elrond pressed his lips together, but his eyes were still full of understanding. “I’m so sorry I hurt--'' Legolas wanted to lash out. He knew it was expected of him at this point, but his rage had abandoned him. He settled for ice, for coldness, for that was what had raised him. Elrond would be able to tell he was Thranduil’s son some day.

“You have done nothing to me that warrants an apology. I know what I am and I know what I deserve.” Legolas cocked his head to the side. “Let’s leave this for what it was, absolutely nothing but duty on your part and lust on my part.”

“Is that really all you thought it was?” Elrond’s laugh was incredulous, but Legolas didn’t care to hear what he had to say. Frankly, he didn’t know what else it could have been. Why would Elrond sleep with him if he had not demanded it? Why had Legolas tried to seduce him if he had not desired his body? Duty and lust were simple, easy, and neither of them had been there the morning he had woken up next to Elrond feeling so peacefully at ease.

This would do them great evil if it continued. If Legolas’ father found out it might be more than lust or duty on both their parts. He needed to clear his head. He needed to think. He needed to remember why he shoved everyone away.

“Namarie.” He turned sharply on his heel, heading towards his rooms.

“Wait, I have your gloves.” Elrond called after him for the second time.

“Keep them.” Legolas didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Elrond meant nothing to him, absolutely nothing. Now he only had to convince himself.


	9. Chapter 9

It would have been easier if Legolas had just left, but he stayed until the celebrations ceased. Elrond didn’t seem him dancing or smiling, just a cold shadow, disinterested in the proceedings around him. Elrond felt as if he must be a ghost for how Legolas seemed to never see him or hear him, not that he tried to cross the boundary that Legolas had laid down. Legolas wanted nothing to do with him. He had his fill of the Half-elven. He could go back to his outpost and tell his friends about how Elrond sucked his cock with his hair down his back.

And then Legolas went back to the outpost, and Elrond had to remind himself not to miss the prickly prince with kindness buried in his heart. Elrond wasn’t all that sure Legolas was boasting about his conquests. Elrond wasn’t sure Legolas had any friends. If anything, he might have been the closest thing to a friend that Legolas had in a while. And he had hurt the prince, even if the elf refused to admit it.

Legolas might have forbidden Elrond to do a lot of things, but that didn’t stop the Elf-lord from puzzling over him before writing to his sons, asking if Iliumal ever talked about his brothers. Elrond took it a step further and started to get to know Legolas’ surviving brothers. He found ways to ask each of them about Iliumal and found out that none of the brothers seemed to really care for the eldest brother that much. None of them would tell him why until he got to the brother who was just a few years older than Legolas.

“Why are you asking about Iliumal, Elrond?” Radedir smiled over at Elrond. Elrond had been with them for a few years now, about three years after Iliumal’s death, and the family had gotten used to him, had grown fond of him in their own ways. Elrond was a calm and steadying force, a force that had long been absent since the death of their mother. They all gravitated towards Elrond now that they knew he would be fair and non-judgmental. Mirkwood seemed to be the better for his presence and they all knew it, even the king who they feared to say that in front of. “This doesn’t have anything to do with why my brother hasn’t bothered to come home for over two years now.”

“I don’t know why Legolas stays away, but I was under the impression that he rarely likes to visit the palace anyway.” Elrond responded. It had been over two years since he saw the youngest prince and yet his heart still ached over how they had parted. They both deserved better than how they parted.

“Aye.” Radedir smirked. “But he’d visit more often if the two of you hadn’t had some lover’s spat.” Elrond frowned, leaning back, away from the turn in this conversation. He didn’t want to talk about that. He would not allow them to assume it was like that, even if it somehow had felt very much like that. He and Legolas were not lovers. They weren’t even friends.

“We are not lovers. He had his fill and then he was done with me like he was done with all the others.” And now Elrond sounded bitter to his own ears.

“Aye, but you got close.” Radedir leaned in. “He doesn’t trust easily and he had good reason not to. Iliumal was not an easy older brother to have. He wasn’t… he wasn’t kind, Elrond.” Radedir pushed his reddish hair over his shoulder, glancing around. “He and his friends would make a sport of it sometimes.”

“A sport of what?” Elrond frowned. His sons had been Iliumal’s friends. Had they been a part of something that would have hurt Legolas? He would send them another missive and ask them directly about it. 

“Some of his friends…” Radedir shuddered. “They were mean, mean like Iliumal. They were rich and noble, and they would pick on the younger elves to experiment on…”

“How?” Elrond’s eyes burned as he assumed the worst.

“All kinds of things. They would pick an elfing and make them their pet so to speak. One of them wanted me. Iliumal didn’t bother to stop her, let her do whatever she wanted.” Radedir bared his arm to the elbow, revealing neat, carved scars similar to Legolas’ chest. “I thought you might recognize those.” Radedir’s eyes gleamed. “Like I said, you got close. Most people never even get to see them, let alone up close like you did. You probably even got to touch them.” Elrond had, if being pulled flush to Legolas’ chest while they fucked counted.

“What should I do?” He asked, shaking that memory clear from his mind. 

“Let him sort things out.” Radedir nodded towards the worn gloves Elrond still wore. “You don’t think you got new rooms or new clothes out of the kindness of Ada’s heart, did you?” Elrond’s brow furrowed. Legolas had been behind all that… charity?

“What happened to him?” Elrond asked. He needed to know. He wanted to know. This was personal somehow, as if he owed the prince to know what ailed him so that he might somehow help him… that he might somehow heal him. It troubled Elrond to realize how much those words rang true. He wanted to help heal the prince. He wanted Legolas to be at peace like he had been dancing with Elrond, like how he had been when they woke up, close together in each other’s warmth.

“You’ll have to ask him.” Radedir said firmly and Elrond knew he would get no more out of him. “But whatever happened with Legolas and Iliumal-- it was personal. Legolas was favored over him for a time, because, well, look at him.” A pained expression crossed Radedir’s face. Elrond realized Legolas wasn’t the only wounded elf in this palace. This family had been hurting for quite some time and they hadn’t known how to deal with it. They hadn’t known that emotional hurts could sometimes cut deeper than physical ones. Losing their mother the way they did...

“He looks like your mother.” Elrond realized. Grief and loss were dangerous to their kind, especially when they were so unused to death like the other races of Middle Earth were. “This is somehow connected back to your mother.”

“Aye.” Radedir nodded. “He used to act like her too before something happened. Before Ada turned on him. Legolas was saying all kinds of things about Iliumal and his friend, Girithanar. Ada wouldn’t listen. Iliumal had gotten there first.”

“Did you believe Legolas?” Radedir nodded.

“Ada always believe Iliumal over all of us. He was the favored son, the crown prince, even if he looked more like Ada than Mother. Legolas was cast out from that day on-- the dreaded prince instead of a favorite.” Radedir shrugged. “He kind of just grew into it, taking on the persona until it was him.”

“But not really.” Elrond frowned. “There is still light in him. I have seen it.”

“Then you’ve seen something that most of us haven’t seen in years.” Radedir sighed. “We all went through Iliumal and his friends-- I just don’t know what happened to Legolas to make his worse than all of ours.”

“I mean to find out. I mean to help if I can.”

“Be careful.” Radedir warned. “Ada won’t like it.”

“He doesn’t usually care for me as it is.” Elrond quipped, giving the red-haired prince a warm smile. “I will respect his crown, Radedir.”

“Like you did with the refugees?” Radedir grinned. “You’re not as careful as you think, Half-elven. The signs are always there if you choose to read them.” Elrond stood, heading back to the kitchen to his duties. He had gleaned a lot from that conversation. Someone had hurt Legolas, perhaps more than one someone. He had a name. Girithanar. He would use it and dig up what he could. Radedir was right though. He did need to be more careful.

He would be of no help to Legolas if he got himself thrown into the dungeons.


	10. Chapter 10

And then Elrond did end up in the dungeons, but not for his conversation with Radedir, no, he was thrown in the dungeons because Thranduil had intercepted a letter from his sons, a letter than mentioned Iliumal.

“Why are you asking about my dead son?” Thranduil asked through the iron bars. Elrond did not like it down here. There was not enough sunlight, not enough plants, and not enough fresh air. He had been locked up for two weeks, enough to make him feel desperate again, when Thranduil showed up to question him.

He had been fed and watered, but not allowed to clean himself. He felt gross, wanting to bathe, to wash himself and his hair. This treatment was bordering on the risk of war if Imladris ever found out about it.

“I wanted to know if he was close to his brothers for none of his brothers seem close to him.”

“Yes, I heard you were snooping, trying to help my wayward youngest.” Thranduil sniffed. “I wouldn’t waste your time. He’s made it very clear to all of us how he feels about you.”

“He’s back?” Elrond asked, rising to his feet.

“Sit down, Half-elven, you’re not going anywhere. I have half a mind to let you live out the rest of the blood debt down here where you can’t cause any more trouble. Legolas is not the victim you think he is.”

“Perhaps he’s more of a victim than you think he is.” Elrond countered. “All accounts say you didn’t even give him a chance.”

“Do you even know what he accused his brother of?” Thranduil sneered. “Or are you just grabbing tiny bits here and there and trying to string them together? He had no proof other than the scars he made himself!” Elrond shook his head.

“Legolas didn’t make those scars.” He paused. “Does the name Girithanar mean anything to you?” Thranduil’s eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to the iron bars.

“Leave it or I will let you rot in here. There will be no starlight to help you this time.” Elrond couldn’t hide how that stung. He hated how things ended between him and Legolas, there was no hiding that. “Legolas will be fine once he manages to pull his pretty blond head out of his ass. Stay out of it, Elrond! We are not your patients to practice on.”

Elrond sank back on his bedroll that was laid on top of the hewn rock. He couldn’t give into despair, not yet, not with being imprisoned for who knows how long. Thranduil was trying to break him and Elrond was frightened he might succeed. Weeks passed and Elrond walked in dreams more often than not, needing the escape as despair crept into his heart. Perhaps he died here, having achieved nothing but saving his son from Thranduil’s wrath. But if he died here, no one would be able to save his sons from war. None of them would suffer the insult of his death lightly.

Elrond had been locked up for four months when Legolas arrived back home. His arrival was silent, no one to greet him at the gates. Even the servants and the guards shied away as he entered. The message was clear and he understood it well: he wasn’t welcome. He hasn’t been welcome for some time.

“Hello, little brother.” His head jerked up.

“Radedir.” Legolas nodded his head in greeting.

“We thought you had gone for good.”

“I don’t know why I bother to come back.”

“Perhaps to see a Half-elven.” Legolas cocked his head, staring at his brother. He wasn’t sure if he was being mocked or teased, he just knew he didn’t appreciate the feeling. “Come now, there’s no reason to be looking at me like that. I’m not the enemy here.”

“I’m not so sure of that.” Legolas answered coolly.

“He’s been asking a lot of questions.”

“He does that.” Legolas did not want to talk about Elrond. He had been unable to keep his thoughts from drifting back to him all these years and now he was the first subject people wanted to talk to him about.

“I told him about Girithanar.”

“You what?!” Radedir winced.

“I didn’t tell him what he did! But I wanted to nudge him on the right track.”

“What have you done?!” Legolas was horrified and not because his brother had named someone he truly had tried to forget. Elrond was like a bloodhound once he got a scent. Not that Legolas could claim to know the Elf-lord at all. Two times bedding him, two late nights with him, and Legolas didn’t know him at all. And yet, he had trusted him… “Fuck!” Legolas exclaimed. “I have to go find him.”

“Good luck with that.” Radedir’s tone chilled him. “None of us have seen him for months.” He hadn’t brought this all up to be cruel, no, he had brought it up because he was worried. Someone had made Elrond vanish and Radedir feared it was all his fault. He had talked too much. He had known better than to talk so much, but in his heart, Radedir had wanted Elrond to be able to help Legolas also.

Legolas hurried down to Elrond’s room, only to find a new servant living there, a new servant who almost shit himself to find the insatiable prince standing at his door. He shakingly directed Legolas to an upper level where Elrond had been moved years ago. Legolas had succeeded at one thing as he looked around the rooms that were much more fitting for Elrond. His father had listened to him and Mithes about what Elrond needed. He scanned the room, looking for something, anything that would clue him as to where Elrond’s location was.  
And that was how he found a letter addressed to himself.  
  


* * *

_“They won’t give me your location, Legolas, but I will write this anyway. If I find the means to get this to you, I will._

_I’m so sorry I reacted the way that I did. You never meant nothing to me and I’d like to think we had somehow become friends during our time together. You forbade me from thinking of you, but I cannot stop thinking of how I must make things right between us._

_I will make things right, even if you never speak to me again. I care for you, Legolas. When I first came here, I thought perhaps I had been brought here to help you, and while that might still be true, I think you were brought here to help me. You have reminded me to feel things I thought would be impossible to feel again."_

_-Elrond_

* * *

  
Legolas folded up the letter, sliding it into his pocket. He’d reread it later, see if it meant what he thought it did. He had known— he had guessed— but having Elrond’s feelings confirmed made his stomach clench. He wasn’t worth the Elf-Lord’s time or concern, forget his feelings.

“Don’t go looking for him.” Legolas turned to see his father standing in the doorway. “I will not allow any more of this foolishness to continue.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Ada.”

“You two are not allowed to be courting.” Legolas burst into laughter.

“Ada, at the most, we were fucking.”

“Legolas, he cares for you.”

“And I for him.” A statement that surprised them both. “And I will look for him and I will find him, Ada. No warning from you will stop me.”

“He’s Half-elven!”

“And yet he has seen me better than my own family!” Legolas pushed by his father. “Now where have you kept him?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: slight mental break. lot of mental anguish. Imprisonment, which in itself for this fic, a psychological torture. Elrond is nearly broken by the end of the chapter. ANGST. but also some good hurt/comfort towards the end.

Legolas headed to the dungeons first, knowing his father better than most. They weren’t close, but Legolas knew his ways, his punishments.

“Elrond!” He called out, checking each cell as he hurried. He couldn’t explain the dread building in his belly, as if he was running out of time. “Elrond?!” He heard his father’s robes behind him, but he didn’t slow down. “Where the fuck is he?” He was in the right place-- he could somehow feel it. He glanced up at his father. “Well?!”

“He is near the bottom.” Thranduil revealed with some displeasure. “I was going to let him out eventually.”

“How long has he been in there?” Legolas didn’t hide his horror as he hurried down the steps faster. “Elrond?!”

“Time flows so fast.” Thranduil shrugged. “A couple months, at least. He stopped eating a couple weeks ago.”

“Months?! Weeks?!” Legolas didn’t hide his rage. “Are you trying to kill him, Ada? May Mithes curse you.” Thranduil flinched. “Stay here.” Legolas warned. “I will find him and I will bring him out.”

“You might need these then.” Thranduil tossed the keys to his son. “I don’t like this, I don’t have to like this, but he has said things that made me think. Perhaps I was unfair to you.” Legolas scoffed, his father’s words echoing behind him as he took the stairs as fast as he could. His father had been unfair to him, but that would be a conversation for another time. He needed to get to Elrond. He needed to get Elrond out of here before-- before Elrond ended up like he had been after the whipping. Legolas’ training paid off because he found Elrond’s cell, even if there wasn’t much of Elrond left inside.

“Erond.” Legolas skidded to a stop, landing on his knees. Elrond was not the elf he had left, there was hardly anything left to Elrond. His hair was stringy, filthy just to look upon, even though Elrond had always taken such good care of it. His eyes were bereft of light, nearly empty of anything that Legolas could recognize as Elrond. His clothes hung off of him, his body and face were gaunt. “I’m here.”

Legolas forced himself up on his feet and shoved the key into the lock. He opened the door and knelt back down in front of Elrond.

“Legolas.” Elrond turned his awful, empty eyes towards Legolas. His gray eyes that normally sparkled as he bantered with Legolas. Or his gray eyes that darkened with lust when he saw Legolas naked and coming to their bed. “Why are you here?” Legolas had thought at first that Elrond was stuck in a dream-like state, but no, it was far worse than that. Elrond was perfectly lucid. He had just given up.

“I came to get you out.” There was so much between them and Legolas didn't know how to go through it all, not with Elrond like this. Elrond wouldn't want him like this.

“The door is open.” Elrond looked over Legolas’ shoulder, over the snug, soft, green tunic that he wore when he needed to blend into the forest.

“It is.” Elrond was staring out the door longingly.  
  
“I’ve dreamt about escaping so many times, but I could never get past the door. I tried so hard to get past the door.”

“Let’s get you out of here.” Legolas helped him to stand to his feet, catching him when his legs buckled. “I would have come back sooner, Elrond, if I had known.” Elrond’s eyes were back on him, but Legolas was distracted by the spots on Elrond’s robe that he now recognized as dried blood. Elrond had hurt himself in his desperate attempts to break free. Legolas' eyes watered, feeling Elrond's pain as his own for a minute.

“Are you hur--” And then Elrond screamed. The scream was awful, full of dread and terror that shook Legolas to his core. He could feel Elrond’s anguish, he could see what the misery had done to Elrond’s fea, leaving it a broken, mangled thing. It was nearly dark, like midnight with hardly any stars. Legolas stared at Elrond with wide eyes as the Half-elven pushed him away.

“You got what you wanted. I screamed.” Elrond crumpled back against the cold stone, away from Legolas, away from the door. “Now leave me to rot.” Legolas took a few steps back, more out of sheer horror than conscious movement. He bumped into his father whose face matched his own.

“What have you done to him?” Legolas turned, his eyes wet with unspilled tears. “Get the guard. I will get him out of here before the darkness fully takes him.” He charged back into the cell, wrapping Elrond’s thin arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Half-elven.” He said the title in hopes it might jar Elrond’s memory or shake his mind enough to make him realize Legolas was a reality. “We’re getting out of here together. I would never leave you to rot.”

“You don’t want anything to do with me.” Elrond reminded him. “I’m just a good fuck with pretty hair.”

“You are a good fuck with pretty hair, but you’re also my friend, Elrond.” Legolas agreed, a surprised laugh escaping him before he dragged Elrond past the cell door. “For the sake of the Valar, help me, Ada.” Thranduil did after a moment's shock, taking Elrond’s other arm. Between the two of them, they got him up the stairs and out of the dungeons.

“You don’t have friends.” Elrond was looking at him again, and while Legolas was preparing for another wretched scream, he had to smile.

“I didn’t until you came along. Now you’re my friend.” Legolas managed. He wanted to say more to Elrond, but that could wait until he was in a better place and Thranduil wasn’t around. “Send for Galadriel and Elrond’s family.” He instructed his father. “This went too far. This was abuse.” He scooped up Elrond, hating how light the other elf was. He weighed next to nothing and he stank of stale air and unwashed bodies. “Send for Mithes. Elrond will be in my rooms.” Legolas was going to get him into the fresh air and sunlight, right after he got him into a warm, soapy bath. “I’ve got you, Elrond.”

“Legolas.” Elrond tucked his head against Legolas’ shoulder.

“I’m here, Elrond.” Legolas said softly. He was still so very angry, but not at Elrond. “How did you manage to piss my father off this badly?”

“Wanted to know what happened to you so I could help. I didn’t want you to have to carry it alone.” Elrond’s eyes were closed but his breathing was more relaxed now. “I am not angry at you, Legolas, just angry with myself. You were never a duty.” Elrond said softly. He was quiet for a couple minutes before he spoke again. “I can see your light.”

“Apparently the only thing that brings it out is when you’re in trouble.” Legolas huffed a laugh. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“How sweet.” Mithes commented, meeting Legolas at the door of his rooms. She took one look at Elrond and cussed in a language that Legolas didn’t want to understand. “Call me when he’s clean.” She ordered. “I need to yell at your father and then I need a drink.”

“Will do.” Legolas got Elrond inside, shutting the door behind them. He sat Elrond at the table, giving him a wary look. He didn’t trust Elrond to keep himself from falling, but Elrond gripped on to the table like his life depended on it. “I’m going to give you a bath. We’re going to clean you up and wash your pretty hair.” Elrond gave him a weak smile.

Legolas stepped into the bathroom, checking the hot water that had already been brought in before adding the soap. Then he came back in to retrieve Elrond. “After this, you’re going to drink some broth.” Legolas glared at him without much heat. Elrond knew it was concern instead of anger. “I would have never forgiven myself or my father if you had starved to death.”

“I just couldn’t do it anymore. Everything was closing in on me-- the air was too heavy.” Elrond recounted with dull eyes. “Everything is still too heavy.” He let Legolas help him out of the chair and into the bathroom.

“I’m here to help carry it now.” How fitting since Legolas was practically carrying him to bath. Elrond couldn’t wait to be clean, and yet, he didn’t want Legolas to know how filthy he was. He was ashamed of how low he currently was.

“I drove you away.” Elrond said morosely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I deserved what you said to me that morning.” Legolas had been carrying his own regret around about how they parted. It was one of the reasons he had stayed away so long. He didn’t want to face Elrond again when he had behaved so terribly. “I was looking for an out. I needed a hurt so that I could run away from you.” He cleared his throat. “You got too close.” He hesitated before continuing on. “I read your letter to me, the one in your rooms.” He clarified. “You made me feel things too, Elrond. Things I didn’t want to feel. And then you called me out on it when I lied.”

“I drove you off.”

“Is that really what you’re getting from all of this?” Legolas eased the appallingly, dirty robe off of Elrond’s gaunt body and then pushed down his loose undergarments. He looked away as much as he could, even if he could smell all that Elrond had been forced to endure months of.

“I’m so dirty.”

“We’ll clean you up.” It wasn’t time for the deep conversations, Legolas realized that now. Elrond was stuck with how he currently was and Legolas would sit with him until he was ready to move on. He scooped Elrond up again, even if Elrond again protested how filthy he was, as if Legolas’ hands weren’t stained as it were with all the things he had done wrong. He could stand his hands to get dirty if it meant washing away the evil between the two of them.

Legolas gently deposited Elrond in the steaming bath, shushing him gently as the great Elf-lord began to cry. Legolas washed his hair, scrubbed his body, and wrapped him up in towels as the tub was drained, cleaned, and then refilled. Legolas stripped down to his undergarments, getting into the bath with Elrond this time. He held Elrond close, letting him cry against his scarred chest as they soaked together in the tub. “You’re safe now.” Legolas promised. “Galadriel and your sons will hear of this. You have my word.”

“I’m so ashamed.” Elrond whispered. “I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t help myself.” Legolas held him a little tighter after that, even as Elrond cried himself into an exhausted sleep. Elrond had helped him and as he continued to recover from this ghastly ordeal, Legolas would make sure he knew just how much he had helped Legolas, even if Legolas hadn’t wanted to be helped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a difficult chapter to write, but we made it through. Please let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the encouragement, kudos and comments! <3

Elrond was back in Legolas’ bed, only Legolas did not join him. He stood watch, eyes never straying from Elrond’s slumbering form. Until Elrond woke from his sleep, looking around for something, until his eyes rested on Legolas. He tilted his head back, looking over his shoulder as he pulled the blankets down. Legolas didn’t look away from his scars although he wanted to. He needed to face the scars he had caused.

“L’glas.” Elrond murmured.

“Yes? Are you all right?” Legolas came to stand close so that Elrond didn’t have to strain his neck.

“Come, stay.” Legolas eyed the bed and the barely clad, gaunt elf who lay in it. “I don’t need guarding. I need warmth.” Legolas huffed good-naturedly at just how well Elrond knew to motivate him to abandon his post. He slid into bed behind Elrond, laying his knives on the floor, just in reach, before wrapping his arms around Elrond’s bare back. “Thank you.” The Elf-lord murmured. “You’ve saved me.” Legolas nuzzled against his neck, moving some still damp strands of hair out of the way.

“And you, me.” Elrond made a weak sound of protest, but now that Legolas had joined him, wrapping him in warmth and safety, he found himself falling back asleep. It was easier for his mind to process that he was free with Legolas holding him. Legolas was content to hold him as he slept, surprising himself when he also drifted off a while later.

“My prince.” Legolas jerked awake when a servant reached out and shook his arm. “I’m sorry to disturb you and Lord Elrond.” Their titles being used was the first clue that things had taken a turn, especially when the servant’s eyes darted to Elrond’s sleeping form. “Lady Galadriel is here.”

“Already?” Legolas sat up quickly before leaning over to check on Elrond. “Thank you.” He dismissed the servant with a nod. “Elrond.” He whispered, running his hand through Elrond’s hair. “Galadriel is here. She wants to see us.” Legolas got up and dressed quickly as he heard the servant let Lady Galadriel into his rooms. He then helped Elrond get dressed. He hoped the Elf-Lord wouldn’t mind borrowing his robes-- he rarely wore such fancy things and the ones Elrond was now wearing, had never been worn.

“How long was I asleep?” Elrond’s eyes were wide. “ She is powerful indeed, but she cannot have traveled from Lothlorien to Mirkwood that quickly.” He slid his hands down the rich, dark blue fabric, marveling at the stars stitched into the embroidery.

“You look beautiful.” Elrond blinked as Legolas’ finger traced over his cheek gently. He felt as if everything had changed while he had been in the dungeons, and while he wasn’t complaining about this kind of change, he was struggling to keep up.

“Thank you.” He murmured, ducking his head down before he leaned against Legolas’ touch. “This is too fine of a thing.” He protested to Legolas who was interrupted before he could remind Elrond he deserved nothing but the best things Middle Earth had to offer.

“I was already on my way when I met your two messengers. When a prince and a king both urge me to come, I come.” Legolas turned, pulling his hand away from Elrond before he bowed to the Lady in the doorway. Elrond forced himself to stand, letting the fine robe fall to the floor. “But more importantly," she turned to Elrond, scanning him with a critical eye, "I come when family calls for me." Elrond gave her a weak smile as she scrutinized him closely, commenting on his appearance gently in his mind. Legolas realized that they had some kind of psychic link, something that kept them connected.

“That’s how you were already on the road.” Legolas’ eyes lit up with understanding. “You were already coming. You came to help Elrond.”

“Indeed." She murmured, turning her sharp gaze back on Legolas. "How is he?” Galadriel folded her hands in front of her, looking no less regal in her traveling clothes than her fine, white dresses. “How is my son-in-law?” Legolas glanced back at Elrond whose face was already protesting the turn in conversation. Legolas had forgotten that Elrond’s wife had been the daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn as his father had. That was it. He was going to die with his father. “Be at peace.” The Lady smirked softly. “I have not come to eviscerate you, Prince Legolas. Your father? Perhaps. But not you. Lord Elrond has seen to that.” Legolas did not catch her full meaning, but he was realized he was not on the receiving end of her wrath. He had heard... stories... about the Lady of Lorien and her fearsome might.

“I’m right here.” Elrond raised an eyebrow, almost the stern elf Legolas had thought he would be. He was distracting her attention back on him, a relief that was replaced with gratitude. Even now, Elrond gave to him without looking for anything in return. Perhaps that was what first made him feel so safe.

“And would you give me a truthful answer?” Galadriel raised an eyebrow in return, challenging Elrond's assertion. Elrond had the decency to look down meekly. While he as a great healer, he was not so good of a patient. Legolas had called him stoic once and he could see how that defense ran deep.   
  
“I have had better days, Lady Galadriel, and I have had worse.” Elrond’s eyes twinkled ever so slightly, a sight that would make Legolas weep in relief once he was alone. Galadriel looked him over carefully and Legolas remembered once again how powerful this elf truly was.

“I knew your mother.” She said gently. “She would be very proud of you, Prince Legolas.” Galadriel’s hand cupped his cheek in a manner like his mother had used to do. Legolas blinked back tears. He would not cry here. He would not be made undone so easily.

“I doubt that.” He glanced down at the floor. “I’ve done some shitty things. I’ve been cruel and heartless, even to Lord Elrond, but also to my family and my people.” Legolas continued on. “I am ashamed of the elf I have become.”

“That elf you speak of died when you learned Elrond was in trouble.” Galadriel smiled at him. “You remembered your light when he was lost in the darkness.”

“Elrond taught me.” Legolas glanced back over at the Elf-Lord who stared at him incredulously. “He was very patient with me when I was lost in my own.”

“Your mother would be proud.” Elrond echoed after a minute, processing all of what Legolas had just said. Galadriel nodded her confirmation.

“I wanted to check on you before I went to visit with King Thranduil. We are going very deep into the forest to discuss things-- perhaps all the way to the outpost he exiled you too, Prince Legolas.” Galadriel withdrew from the room as quietly as she had entered. “I am glad to see you are in good hands, Elrond. As are you, Prince Legolas. Fear not, we will discuss what your father has done to you as well.”

“No!” Legolas felt nothing but fear in that moment. He looked back to Elrond who looked at him with clear puzzlement in his eyes. He did not want all his shame laid bare, not with all that they had already gone through. He had understood how Elrond had felt when he lay in the bath and could not be clean enough no matter how hard they both scrubbed. Legolas knew shame and he knew it well.

“Be at peace.” Galadriel assured him, but in that moment, it sounded far more like a warning. All his shame would be laid bare-- and who would stand by his side then?

“I am here.” Elrond’s arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into the Elf-lord’s embrace. Elrond was resting against him, yet still in his weakened state, comforting him as well. Legolas held them steady, accepting the comfort. “Whatever it is, mellon nin, we will face it together. I will not run from your darkness, just as you have not run from mine.” Legolas only nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. The grief, the shame, the memories-- they were all still too near.

He turned his attention back to Elrond, getting the Elf-lord back into bed. Mithes came to check Elrond over and to make sure he was properly fed. Elrond was so weary by the end of her visit that Legolas ended up hand-feeding him the rest of the light meal that had been prepared for him.

"Soon you will mend." Legolas stroked his cheek yet again. The darkness was not so near when he was with Elrond. And Elrond, for all his own struggles, accepted and shared in his light. "Soon you will be well again." Elrond saw things unspoken in those clear blue eyes, things he did not dare speak of first. He let Legolas share his light, keeping the darkness away from them both.

A servant came in a little while later while Elrond slept yet again. Sleep could help heal what Mithes and Legolas could not.

"I have news, my prince. A letter came for you just now." The envelope was handed over and Legolas quickly broke the official seal of Imladris. He read the slightly messy handwriting of one of the sons of Elrond, the elder one, Elladan. He and his brother were on their way to Mirkwood, Mithrandir in their ranks. Legolas closed the letter and left it on the table, running a hand over his blond hair.

"You are dismissed, thank you." Legolas gave the servant his leave. He would not let this get so far as to grow into a war, but by the Valar, he would understood if the twins tried. There was something undeniable about Elrond and that was that he was worth fighting for.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn what happened to Legolas.
> 
> TW: torture, abuse, jealousy, date rape, forced drunkenness, and rape. A lot of shame and angst.

Mithes taught Legolas how to bandage Elrond’s healing wounds and then left the job of healer to him about three days after Galadriel arrived.

“He needs you more than he needs me.” She reassured the prince with a wink. “He finds comfort in you.” Legolas just nodded. Elrond did gravitate towards him over all the others, a fact that flattered and terrified the prince all at the same time.

“He considers you a friend.” And it was true. Elrond looked forward to Mithes’ visits, even if he was so weary when they came to an end.

“I will never be far.” Mithes smiled, touched by the prince’s concern. “He needs more rest. I see how tired he is when I leave, just as you do.” She studied Legolas carefully before she said her parting comment. “You care for him. You protect him. He is lucky to have you.” Legolas scoffed slightly, looking down at his bare feet. But when he looked up, Mithes was already gone.

“She’s right, you know.” Elrond mused from where he sat at the table. “I am lucky to have you.” Legolas made a soft sound in return, knowing better than to argue that point with Elrond right now. The stubborn Elf-lord was tired of sitting in bed and so they had compromised with the chair and the table. Elrond was feeding himself now. He could dress himself too if he desired to. He could walk around the rooms and go out on the balcony. “I like the paintings in your room.” He had been staring at them for the past three days. “Who is the artist? I would like to purchase some of their work and bring it home with me to Imladris.”

“Uh…” Legolas’ mind was stuck on the idea of Elrond leaving. He was even more surprised by how much he did not want the Elf-lord to leave, at least, not without him.

“I’m not leaving for some time.” Elrond realized after a moment what he had said and the effect it was having on the prince. He reached over and touched Legolas’ arm gently. “I still have a blood debt to pay.” The blood debt. Legolas hated that thing. He wished it would be broken so Elrond could go free to his home and be at peace. And yet, he was glad to have something still holding Elrond here. He was not sure he would be a strong enough thing to hold Elrond in one place.

“I would say you have paid it already with the debacle with Ada and the dungeons.” Legolas found his tongue and his cheek at the same time. Elrond relaxed back in his chair, laughing at his comment. “The pictures are mine.” Legolas hesitantly revealed. “You can have whatever ones you want. I don’t paint anymore.” Elrond’s eyes widened and he pushed himself up from the chair and walked into the bedroom.

“You painted these?” He pointed to each one. There was the dark green of the woods with splashes of golden sunlight weaving through. There was a portrait of Legolas’ mother, her smiling face and kind eyes framed by hair as golden as Legolas’ own. “You did your naneth justice.”

“I wanted to remember her.” Legolas said simply, coming to stand behind Elrond as the Elf-lord went over each of his paintings. Legolas couldn’t remember the last time someone was interested in his art-- and it was soothing to hear how highly Elrond thought of each piece.

“What about that one?” That painting was abstract at best, but Legolas flinched all the same. He had kept that one to remember too.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Legolas kissed along Elrond’s shoulder and up along his neck, distracting himself from the memories in that painting. He remembered how he screamed as he flung scarlet paint on the canvas, how he had sweated as he beat angry black into the bright red. And then he had pummeled what was left of the painting, handprints, fist marks, scratches. He had emptied all his pain and anger into that work. He had bled his own shame into that work. Legolas was so distracted that he missed how still Elrond was. “Sorry.” Legolas noticed how tense Elrond was. “I should have asked.”

“It’s not that.” Elrond glanced over his shoulder, his hand reaching to touch Legolas’ cheek. “You broke your own rule.” Legolas' forehead crinkled. He had placed that no kissing rule back when he had no idea how much the Elf-lord would mean to him.

“I don’t think we have many rules between us anymore.” Legolas said wearily. No rules or dignity, and yet, strength and compassion to carry on.

“What are we?” Elrond asked bluntly, raising a hand as Legolas’ face paled. “Don’t feel as if you owe me a commitment, my prince. I simply want to know. I do not want to misstep and send you hurtling back into the woods.”

“I won’t run.” Legolas shook his head, unable to meet Elrond’s gray eyes that gained more light each day. “We are what we are, my Lord. We are friends and yet we are something more. Beyond that, I do not know, but I would like to find out. First, I must tell you my story.” Just in case Elrond decided he didn’t return those feelings once he knew what had befallen Legolas.

Legolas licked his lips as he glanced over at Elrond. He was glad to see some intensity return in those gray depths, but he also was wary of that gaze being on him. “That painting was my story.” He directed Elrond’s gaze back to the painting on the wall. “I didn’t know how to tell my story after Ada rejected it. He said I was lying.” Legolas trembled. “He didn’t give me a chance.”

“I’m sorry.” Elrond murmured. He pulled Legolas back into the other room, away from the bedroom and the violent painting. “Sit.” He directed Legolas to a chair at the table, taking the one next to him. His touch was gentle along Legolas’ arm, gentle and lingering, before he took Legolas’ hand in his own. “I promised, Legolas, I will not be put off by your darkness. I only want to help and I will only help in whatever capacity you so desire.” Legolas shot him a grateful glance. He felt naked here. He felt naked without his weapons, but then again, he felt naked whenever he was with Elrond, as if the Elf-lord could see every scar and how he got it. After today, Elrond would know every scar and how he got them.

“Radedir told you part of the story.” Legolas took in a shuddering breath, focusing on the hand Elrond squeezed a little more firmly. Elrond was grounding him, reminding him that this time he wasn’t alone. This time his story would be believed. “The older siblings would harass the younger siblings once they were near their majority. I don’t know how long it went on-- I believe it started and ended with Iliumal and his friends.” He stared at the grain of the wood that lay under their joined hands. “I was the last one to go through the trial.”

“Radedir was cut by a girl.” Elrond didn’t name her brother and for that Legolas was grateful. He remembered their faces clearly, as if he had seen them yesterday, even if he hadn’t seen them for centuries.

“Hastriel." Legolas named the first of his abusers. "She was the first to have a turn with me.” Legolas hummed. “You’ve seen the scars across my chest. She gave them to me just like she gave Radedir his. Her scars were much worse, scars that she showed to all who would dare to look. She had scars where no one should have scars.” He added on.

“That does not excuse the scars she handed out to others.” Elrond said more than a little sternly. Legolas’ heart was shining through, compassion for one who had tortured him. Elrond had no such compassion in his heart for any who broke his Legolas so. Legolas tilted his head to the side, studying Elrond’s face carefully. The Elf-lord looked more murderous than he did earlier.

“Her brother was Girithanar.” Legolas revealed. Elrond recognized that name with the way he sat on the edge of the seat. He was already tiring. Legolas always could tell by his eyes. “We can lie down.” He offered, but Elrond shook his head.

“Not yet. I might need to pace angrily.” Legolas laughed lightly. Elrond did seem the type to pace angrily as he plotted an enemy’s demise. He was also the type to distract a friend with a joke. Legolas squeezed Elrond's hand back. He would need all the strength Elrond was offering to continue. It wasn't an easy story to tell-- it had been even harder to live through.

“No need to get all ruffled on my account.” He lightly soothed.

“I have every need to get angry on how you were treated!” Elrond was aghast at his words, no, devastated if his expression was anything to go by. Elrond’s expressions were legendary for giving away how he was feeling. Legolas knew that now. His stoicness had been a mask and Legolas was past that now. “You are my--” Elrond faltered, leaning back into his chair. “You are important to me.” He cleared his throat. “I fight for those who are important to me.”

“Still a warrior.” Legolas smiled warmly, touched that Elrond found him to also be worth fighting for. He hoped Elrond would feel the same when his story was done. He had told the truth earlier. He did want to explore this blossoming relationship that they were forming. “Girithanar was Iliumal’s best friend.” It still hurt to say either of their names, especially after what they had done. “Iliumal thought Ada favored me, especially after Naneth died.” Legolas’ face shifted into something sad-- Elrond had never seen him look sad before. The vulnerability he was being trusted with was important to him. He would carry it well. “He thought I would steal his place in Ada’s heart and perhaps the throne. I didn’t want any of that,” Legolas rasped, trying to swallow down his rising emotions, “I just wanted my Naneth back. I wanted to make my Ada smile again. He smiled when he saw me until one day he didn’t. And then he never smiled at me again.”

“What happened?”

“I told him what Iliumal and Girithanar had done. How they had plied me with drink until I had no control over myself or my body.” Legolas stopped suddenly, his eyes dark, his breath fast, harsh, and shallow. “They made a fool of me for all their friends to see. They made me a fool for their friends to enjoy. They dragged me into the darkness and tied me up amidst the trees. And then the monsters came.” This was where his memory failed him, only flickers of warm tongues, cold wind, and a rough intrusion where he did not want it, not really, but was too drunk, too aroused to stop it.

“You don’t have to tell me anymore.”

“I want you to know. I… I trust you to know.” Legolas faltered. “I just cannot remember all of it-- it comes and goes in flickers of darkness and shadow. And what I can remember-- I do not have the words, not anymore.”

“May I?” Elrond raised a hand. “I can look into your mind. I can see what happened. You don’t need to say anymore.” Legolas hesitated before he nodded. Elrond’s touch was warm as they both fell back into Legolas’ shattered memories.  
  


* * *

_Elrond’s pulse quickened as he took on Legolas’ fear as his own as something drew close in the darkness. Something that was not elven. Legolas called, no, screamed for his brother and Girithanar to return. But they would not return until Legolas had been utterly unmade._

_“What is this treat the elves have left for us?”_

_“Girithanar knows what we like.” A cruel laugh that made Legolas shake. "Elf-flesh." His bonds were loosed, sending him sprawling to the earth. His drunken state made him pliable, bendable, and the unknown assailants dragged him over to the roots. They had tongues, long, warm tongues that slid along the skin that they bared with ease, before they went down, down to place that made Legolas cry out with something that wasn’t fear._

_“Stop.” Legolas whispered, his legs shaking as his body adjusted to this new stimulation._

_“But the elfling likes it.” A tongue slid down his cock while the other tongue continued to push deeper into him._

_“Let me go.”_

_“Relax, elfing, we will make you feel good. Girithanar takes good care of us and he wants us to take good care of you."  
_  
_"No!" Legolas screamed, but no help came. Not then, not after he told his father what had happened._

* * *

Elrond was thrown from Legolas’ mind. He clutched the table to keep from falling out of his chair. He had not used his abilities since the dungeons and barely had enough to strength to keep himself upright.

“I cannot--” Legolas broke, hot tears dripping down his red cheeks. “I cannot relive that, Elrond.” He glanced over, taking in Elrond’s pale face and sagging posture. “Elrond.” He tsked, scooping the Elf-lord up and bringing him to his bed. “Rest. I will be here when you wake up.”

“Stay with me.” Elrond insisted.

“I cannot. Not this time.” Legolas’ face was drawn as he laid that boundary down. He could barely touch another when he was so filthy. He remembered now why he was so fucking filthy. He knew what those creatures were now that he was a seasoned warrior who had fought much of Sauron’s ilk. The revelation had broken him in half when he first realized it and now Elrond knew too.. “Iliumal and Girithanar took me once the orcs had their fill.” Legolas said, filling in the last puzzle piece. I was Girithanar’s pet for some time after that until I reached my majority.”

“You hadn’t even reached your majority?!” The horror on Elrond’s face was for him, not at him. “Legolas, I am so sorry!” Elrond's eyes were full of pain, pain on his behalf, perhaps even his own pain. Legolas did not like to see Elrond in pain.

“It was a long time ago.” Legolas deflected.

“Once you can bear touch, please come back to bed.” Elrond pleaded. “I just want to hold you so that I can pretend I can protect you from the wickedness that is in this world.” Legolas gave him a tired smile, sitting on the bed and leaning against the pale, wooden headboard.

“I will sit with you.” He compromised. “I would like to keep you on the mend, especially with your sons on their way.” He saw how Elrond lit up at the mention of the twins and wished his Ada would feel that way about him. His sadness must have shown because Elrond suddenly looked very concerned.

“Galadriel will set your father right.” Elrond soothed. Him and his way of knowing. Legolas found it comforting more than disconcerting. It was hard for him to voice some things. “I have no doubt of that.”

“Do you think she will send you home?” Legolas asked.

“I need to fulfill the blood debt, even if I would strike your brother down for what he subjected you to if he was still alive.” Elrond reminded him. “Why?” Elrond's rage on his behalf was endearing. Legolas had done the right thing with trusting Elrond with his story and yet he did not know what to do with being believed.

“I don’t want you to go.” Legolas looked over at him solemnly. “I will miss you when you leave these woods.”

“You are always welcome in Imladris.” Elrond extended an invitation right then and there. “But I will miss you too.” It was Legolas who reached over this time, squeezing Elrond’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere yet, Legolas. I have some unfinished business here and a potential relationship that I would still like to explore.” The gentle reassurance of patience and care was enough to make Legolas feel undone yet again. But this time, he trusted Elrond with his tears, leaning into the Elf-lord’s shoulder. After all, Elrond had trusted him with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY SWEET BABIES T-T y’all I’m so sorry.


	14. Chapter 14

_Elrond was woken up by Erestor, Erestor who was nearly as pale as the moon and covered in blood. There was so much blood._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Elrond, come quickly!” Erestor pulled him from his bed. “They’re dying!”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Who?!” Elrond threw over a robe and hurried after Erestor. He somehow kept tripping over his feet and almost falling, but then eventually, he made it. He skidded to a stop, an ugly, horrified sob escaping his throat because that was his wife. “Celebrian.” He rushed to her side, his hands already stained with blood as he checked her for injuries. “Where is the blood coming from?!” He screamed at Erestor who just stood there, watching him._ _  
_ _  
_ _“The orcs.” Erestor looked down on the ground. “Elrond-- they showed no mercy. They--” Just the expression on Elrond’s face told him all he needed to know. “She wants to go to the ships, but she’ll bleed out if she travels like this.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Where is the blood coming from?” Elrond asked again, much more weakly as he double-checked._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Here.” Celebrian gurgled, laying his hand over her heart. “Let me go, Elrond. I cannot bear it here any longer. I cannot bear your touch after what they have done to me.” The scene changed instantly, transporting them to the sea. Elrond wept bitterly as Celebrian floated away, the water behind her boat trailing blood._ _  
_ _  
_ _“Lord Elrond!” Erestor urged him from the sea. “There is a second one.” Elrond turned only to see Legolas laying where Celebrian had been moments before. “The orcs.” Erestor said in a dead tone. Elrond turned to see his seneschal turn into something that looked far too much like a corpse. “They found Legolas too-- I’m sorry, Elrond, you’re going to have to let him go too.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Legolas!” Erestor grabbed Elrond, holding him back as Legolas started to float away too, blood dripping down, down, down into the clear water. “Let me go! Legolas!” Erestor just shook his head._ _  
_ _  
__"How could you save him when you couldn’t even save her?" It was an awful truth, one that cut Elrond deeper than he had ever been hurt before.  
  
_

* * *

_  
_  
Elrond screamed, waking himself up. He looked around the room wildly, eyes centering on Legolas who had just rushed into the room. He had just left to go fetch them some breakfast when he heard screaming from the hall. He had never heard Elrond scream like that, not even in the dungeons, and so had come running back as soon as he could. Elrond was breathing fast, looking as if he was about to vomit, and then he reached for Legolas like a drowning man reaches for a ship.   
  
_“Go to him.”_ Legolas blinked as he heard the Lady’s voice in his mind _“He lost you in his dream. He’ll need to know you’re all right. He’ll need to touch you to make sure for himself.”_ Legolas didn’t need any more urging than that, especially not when Elrond burst into tears.   
  
“Elrond!” Legolas put their food down before he crawled onto the bed. He pulled a trembling, weeping Elrond into his arms, rocking him in his arms. He made soft, soothing, shushing noises as Elrond twisted into his tunic, clutching at him, pulling him closer.  
  
“Legolas.” And then Elrond wept anew, causing the both of them to shake with the strength of his sobs. “Mellon nin.” His fingers were wrapped into the fabric of Legolas’ clothes, anchoring them together. Legolas wasn’t sure anything could separate them right now.  
  
“I’m here. You’re safe.” Legolas feared that Elrond’s dream had been about the dungeons. He didn’t even fathom that the Elf-lord would be so devastated by his own ordeal.  
  
“It was a dream, a terrible dream.” Elrond shifted so that his back was to Legolas’ chest and sagged against him. He was ashamed that he still was unable to cease his weeping. The horror and the grief was still too near. Legolas was patiently waiting and so he forced out what he had failed to do in his dream. “I couldn’t save you.”  
  
“Elrond.” Legolas’ heart ached for the hurting Elf-lord in his arms. “You have saved me.”  
  
“There was so much blood.” Elrond hiccuped suddenly and Legolas shushed him, running his hands over his long hair. “Erestor held me back. He said I couldn’t save you because I didn’t save _her._ ” Elrond’s voice hitched over the word ‘her,’ and Legolas realized just how Elrond and his wife had been parted.  
  
“Celebrian was attacked by orcs like I was.” He realized. “Shit, Elrond, I didn’t mean to bring up all that... “ Legolas searched for the right word. He didn’t want to call it for what it was. It was trauma, plain and simple, but he didn’t want to offend the healer in his arms. “I just knew I needed to finally trust you with what happened to me or else I would keep almost pushing you away.”  
  
“You can call it what it is.” Elrond finally managed to suck in a steadying breath, roughly wiping at his face. Legolas pulled his hands away and wiped away the rest of Elrond’s tears much more gently. Legolas hated that Elrond was trying to pull it all back inside of him. Elrond needed to know that he didn’t need to hide under his stoic mask right now. “It is trauma. Healers deal with it the same as every one, so do Elf-lords, kings, and princes. The process takes time and yet all the time in the world can’t take it away. I’m sorry, Legolas. I didn't mean to frighten you.”  
  
“Elrond-- I am here for you as much as you have been here for me.” Legolas wrapped his arms around the Elf-lord’s shoulders. Elrond pressed back into him, glancing up and shuddering when his eyes met the painting they had discussed last night.  
  
“There was so much blood.” Legolas hummed, wanting Elrond to know he heard him, as he grabbed a pillow and launched it at the painting, knocking it from the wall. “Your painting!”  
  
“Let it fall. Let it break. I don’t need it anymore.” Legolas truly meant that. As hard as it had been to bare his soul, his past, to Elrond-- it had also freed him. He wasn’t magically healed, but he still somehow felt more whole. He didn’t want to look at that painting anymore.  
  
“Now you have an empty place on your wall.” Elrond murmured. His eyes were drooping as he listened to Legolas talk. His prince had such a soothing, sexy voice. He was falling asleep and he didn’t bother to fight it. He was exhausted from his nightmare. Legolas was content to hold him, answering his concern about the empty space on his bedroom wall.  
  
“I know what I’m going to do with it too.” Legolas kissed the side of Elrond’s hair. Someday he’d work up the courage to kiss the Elf-lord on the lips-- just not yet. “I could use another portrait, perhaps one of you this time.” He smoothed Elrond’s hair back again. He realized that he touched Elrond’s hair to comfort himself as much as he meant to comfort Elrond. “I know a good artist. I’ll inquire about her services later.” Elrond didn’t respond. “Elrond?” Legolas couldn’t ignore the spike of anxiety. Had he done something wrong? He peeked around Elrond’s head to find the great Elf-lord sound asleep. “Meleth nin.” Legolas said fondly, his eyes widening when he realized what he had just said. Perhaps it was for the best Elrond was asleep. Legolas leaned back against the pillows. They could eat later. They both could use some rest after that terror of a dream.  
  
Legolas didn’t want Elrond to lose him like he lost Celebrian. He would do everything in his power to make sure that Elrond would not lose him like he lost Celebrian.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Legolas calls Elrond "meleth nin," he is calling him his love.
> 
> Also, fun fact, the red and black abstract painting is loosely based off one of my own paintings that I did in therapy. (for different reasons than Legolas however).


End file.
